


Above Us Only Sky

by Fatebegins



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassins & Hitmen, Blackmail, Bottom Jared, Children, Crime Family, Dark Character, Dark Jensen Ackles, Dominance, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Gang Violence, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Italian Mafia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Porn With Plot, Power Dynamics, Psychological Torture, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Coercion, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Top Jensen, Violence, Worldbuilding, asshole Jensen, still a love story, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 74,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3622629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatebegins/pseuds/Fatebegins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For seven years, Jensen has survived on his hatred for Jared Padalecki.  For seven years, he's systematically torn down their empire. Now, it's time for his revenge.</p><p>DO NOT PUT ANY OF MY WORK ON GOODREADS OR OTHER SITES. This is for fun, not for publishing or profit. My stories are unedited and not intended for a professional  forum.  Please respect my wishes and privacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leave

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys,
> 
> So this is the story I've been working on for around a few weeks now. 
> 
> PLEASE, heed the warnings. 
> 
> This story, I believe, is STILL a love story but it's different than my usual fluff. To be blunt: there will be bad people doing bad things. If you know my work "Dark Love" it's more in line with that. There will be domesticity, there will be babies but there will also be attempted non-con, torture and drugs, etc. That's life.
> 
> Additionally, I have no clue why I decided to throw in the Italian Mafia, and common Italian names, don't be offended by that.
> 
> I have the majority of this finished but i need to polish it as I go and expand as necessary I'm hoping to get inspiration and ideas from you all! So don't be shy about any plot suggestions.
> 
> Thanks!  
> xC

It's amazing  
How you make your face just like a wall  
How you take your heart and turn it off  
How I turn my head and lose it all

Leave-Matchbox Twenty

 

This is it; the moment in the film where the audience cringes and tries not to look away.

This is where the bad guy gets what he has coming and irony is slapped across the screen when he meets justice from the wrong end of the law.

The hands restraining Jensen’s wrists tighten brutally. Anthony is binding the rope, doing nothing to avoid the bleeding burns. Guys Jensen once laughed with, shared drinks with; called friends, are holding him down.

Jensen can’t see through the blood pouring down his temple and staining the dirt packed floor.

Through the low hum in his ears he can hear the Boss speaking, telling him that he will learn his place. . Jensen doesn’t offer a response. He doesn’t care what happens to him, as long is Jared is safe. All Jensen can think about is Jared; the rapid beat of his pulse has nothing to do with the men surrounding him. Their beatings are clumsy, brute force without maximum impact. Jensen’s father has given him worse on an off day.

No, Jensen is scared for him.

The next blow leaves Jensen gasping for air, the dry crack of his bone giving way sounds in the silence. He bites through his lip, refusing to cower. He won’t give Carmine the satisfaction.

“Always the ice man, huh?” More laughter, and Carmine unwraps the thick, metal chain around his knuckles, forcing Jensen’s head up by his hair. He bends down to look him in the eyes. It’s funny that those eyes are the same, he’s always thought that. “I’ll have you begging for your pathetic life soon enough.”

Jensen shakes his head, laughing when more blood comes up. He’s incapable of fear for himself. That’s what the Boss never understands. “Fuck. You.”

He spits it unto the other man‘s surprised face, watching as saliva and blood slide down the man’s tan cheek.

Another punch to the gut and another and another… Jensen falls to the floor, right shoulder wrenched from the socket. Acute pain pierces through his haze of shock and he starts to choke now, hacking up darker blood unto his cracked lips.

It’s warm, painting his chest and it makes the bastard smile.

“The great Ackles, gentlemen!” Carmine announces grandly, voice inflated with mockery. “On his knees.”

Brian snickers to his left but for the most part the room is thick with unease. Jensen knows what some of them must be thinking. If this can happen to him, if he can fall so low from so high, then nothing is certain. Carmine has always been a volatile man, but the past months have seen more death than reason.

“I take you in. I invite you into my home.” Carmine continues, and it would seem the show isn’t over. “I give you honor and position, and how do you repay me? By defiling what is mine?”

By loving your son.

“I’m going to enjoy this.”

Jensen has no doubt he will; he has a sadistic streak a mile long.

He’s lost track of time; lost track of the half crusted wounds and fractured bones. It will be awhile yet. He closes his eyes and thinks of Jared; of his smile and the dimples that crease his cheeks. How he smells like fruity shampoo and sleeps, face buried against Jensen’s chest and arms clinging as if Jensen is all that anchors him to the world.

He thinks of their son or daughter, growing inside of the slight swell of Jared’s stomach. He can endure this for them; he will.

As long as they’re safe, none of this matters.

What happens to him doesn’t matter.

-

When the darkness next gives way, Jensen opens his eyes to cool liquid being forced against his lips. He knows even with the cover of darkness that it’s Matthew. He’s the only one stupid enough to risk his life for a traitor.

Jensen drinks greedily and is sick seconds later, bile joining the blood on his pants.

“The hell you doin’ down here?” Jensen finally says, struggling to catch his breath. “You’ll end up next to me.”

Matt replaces the cap on the bottle, expression brooding. “I can’t let you die like this.”

“You have to.”

“Jensen.” Matt swears, running a hand through his hair in a frustrated movement. It’s what he does when he’s helpless; half crazy and half-cocked. Jensen remembers when they first hooked up riding the rails to the city, kid hadn’t changed. “This ain’t right--”

“How’s Jared?”

“Haven’t seen him, not since…”

Since they were found out.

Jensen’s entire world had been ripped from him the moment Carmine realized he was fucking his son. His years of devotion -of risking his life every fucking day on the streets for him- had meant nothing. He was an outsider who had touched his son.

“But have you heard anything?”

“He’s still in the house if that’s what you mean; Carmine’s got him locked up in his rooms.”

Fury makes him stumbled to his feet, arm braced against his aching ribs. “If that mother fucker has done anything to him--”

“You’ll what?” Mathew catches him by the elbow when he staggers. “Jared is fine, you need to worry about yourself, asshole. How the hell are you going to get out of this?”

“There is no getting out.”

“So you’re going to die down here? Like a dog? What is your Ma going to do without you? What about Rosie? You can’t give up--”

“I’m not giving anything up!” Jensen growls. He’s never wanted to live more, but it’s not possible. It’s like the old man said, when your number’s up; your time is up. “If I could get out of here, which we both know ain’t in the cards, if did, where the fuck could I hide that he wouldn’t find me?”

“You’ve gotta at least try.”

“Or worse he would hurt Jared.”

“Jared is the boss’s kid; he’s going to be fine no matter which way this plays out.”

“I won’t take the chance.”

Matthew steps away angrily, hands tightening into fists at his sides. “You think Jared cares about you the same way? Has he once shown his face to help you? No! He’s sat upstairs while his daddy takes you apart! Fuck Jensen, you’re more blood and mess than you are human now. Open your eyes.”

It‘s the same as with the others. Matthew doesn‘t understand. Jensen doesn’t even expect him to, but he knows that he loves Jared, that Jared loves him back. He can’t let that trust crack, not now. He’d have nothing left.

“I’m not askin’ you to be here.”

“No, you ain’t. But here I am.” Footsteps sound from upstairs and Matthew clenches his jaw. “I’d be in your place if the boss knew, but here I am.”

The first time he met Matt, he’d been fighting like hell to get some bum off him. He’d been scrawny at thirteen; hadn’t stood a chance. By the time Jensen realized which way was up, the kid had been screaming. Jensen had grabbed a hammer, cracked it down on the guy’s skull.

It was his first kill, the first time Jensen realized that he could do something so forbidden and just walk away.

After that, Mattie had stuck close to him; followed him to Carmine’s door.

Jensen’s gonna miss him.

“You’ve always been a stupid son of a bitch.”

The old joke falls flat between them, and Matthew heads to the stairs. “He ain’t here, that should tell you something. Think, Jensen, spin that fucking super brain of yours and get the fuck out while you’ve still got legs to carry you.”

-

Jared’s voice is hoarse, nearly gone with all the screaming and crying he’s done in the past week.

And yet his father hasn’t budged.

His desperation is growing. Each day that passes brings Jensen closer to death.

The thought of Jensen dying, bruised and bleeding, alone in the cold dark leaves him half crazed.

“Please, I’ll do anything you want, just please…”

“Enough.” Carmine roars, tossing the black evening jacket in his direction. “Get dressed, now.”

Jared lets the clothing to drop to the rug. “I w-won’t let you kill him.”

That makes his father pause. “Won’t?”

There’s never been a reason for Jared to be afraid of his father before. Although he’d known the type of man he was, the business he was in, there had never been anything but gentle words and indulgence.

After his mother had passed, his father had never denied him. Jared had been handed the world on a platter, anything he asked for was given without restraint and all his needs were met before they were realized. Jared may not have been a part of the life but he appreciated it, loved the privileges and respect it brought him. He’d been an idiot.

 

“Dad.” Jared attempts yet again, heart beating rapidly in his chest like a trapped bird. “Jensen didn’t take advantage of me, he… we love each other. I love him.”

His words are greeted with silence.

Across the room, his father resembles a statute of cold marble, dark eyes unblinking as he stands fixed, hand at the cufflinks he’d been fastening.

“You don’t know what love is.” The words are emotionless, laced with steel. “Love is sacrifice. Do you realize what I have given for you? What I have sacrificed to ensure your place in this world? That scum is nothing but a meat suit, not fit to wipe your ass. Salvatore is the one I have chosen and you will fall in line. “

“Jensen is--”

“He is nothing!”

Jared refuses to cower even though inside he’s shaking like a leaf. Jensen has always been the strong one and now Jared must be strong for him. “I love him, I can’t live without him. I won’t, Dad. You kill him, you kill me.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“If you really loved me like you said you would let him go. You wouldn’t--”

“What is going on in this house, what I am doing for you: that is sacrifice, Jared. That is love.”

The man standing in front of him is unrecognizable.

“Please.”

That earns Jared a slap; sharp but open palm, not meant to hurt. Irrespective, it stuns him. His father has never hit him.

“Never beg a man, Jared, not even me. Not for him.”

There’s nothing left to say but the truth.

“I’m pregnant.” It’s the only thing that Jared can think of that could possibly save Jensen’s life, so he does what Jensen made him swear not to. “I’m having his baby.”

His father moves too quick for Jared to process, fingers biting into the flesh of his upper arms hard enough to leave bruises.

“I’m pregnant.” Jared repeats, finding strength in the words. “Jensen is the father of your grandchild; can you kill him knowing that? Is that what Mom would want?”

At the mention of his late wife, Carmine stiffens but his resolute expression remains the same.

“There will be no child.”

Horror makes Jared struggle in his father‘s hold. He’s nearing his fifth month. “You can’t--”

“I’ve worked too hard to keep the peace for our Family, Jared.” Carmine finishes. “You want to save the piece of shit’s life? Do as I say.”

-

Fever has set in.

Jensen’s perspiring, shaking from a bitter cold that eats at him and settles deep in his bones.

“Jensen.”

Jared’s voice.

He’s hallucinating.

“Open your eyes.”

Jensen is afraid to. Even if this isn’t real, the illusion gives him comfort.

“Jen.”

Jensen opens his swollen eyes and his breath catches in his throat. Jared is real; he’s here in the midst of hell. He smiles, feeling the scabs pull. “Jay.”

“You look like shit.” Jared’s voice quivers and he knees down on the blood stained floor. “He kept you down here all this time?”

“I’m fine.” Jensen brushes away his concern. “How are you holdin’ up?”

Jared gives a humorless laugh, arms crossing over his chest to ward off the ever present chill. “You want to know how I’m doing when your blood is decorating the walls?”

“This is nothin’.” Jensen touches Jared’s cheek gently, feels the soft brush of Jared’s hair against his skin. He inhales deeply, smelling sandalwood and the fruity shampoo Jared loves. He never thought he’d get to see him again. The pain fades to a dull roar. “I’ve had worse.”

Jared moves back, gently setting Jensen’s hands away. “I’ve spoken to my father.”

Jensen doesn’t respond, tips his head back to the cold wall as Jared stands above him. The weakness is pulling at him again, sharp points of light flashing in front of his eyes. Fever must be spiking. The next tremor doubles him over.

“Oh god, Jen.” Jared whispers. “You need a hospital.”

“I’ll get right on t-that.”

“You should’ve never gotten involved with me.” Jared says dully. “I’m responsible for all of this. My father’s right.”

“Don’t say that, can’t hear you say that…”

“I care about you, Jen, always will but this was never…. It was only some fun for me. And you, you took it for more. I shouldn’t have let you think I felt the same. That was a mistake and I’m so sorry. This has gone too far…it’s too much. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t mean that.” Jensen rubs at his eyes and tries to bring the world back in focus. “Don’t.”

“I do, Jensen, I’m sorry.”

“You’re havin’ my baby.”

“N-not anymore.” Jared’s eyes never leave his and Jensen watches the plain gold band- his ring—fall to the ground. “I… not anymore.”

“What…what a-are you…”

“There is no baby, Jensen, not anymore.”

When this had all started, when Jared’s hand brushed against his outside of a church door nearly a year ago, Jensen had felt like a drowning man who got his first breath of air.

Now, he’s being dragged back under, into the darkness. An inhuman sound of pain leaves him. For the past four days Jensen’s been torn apart in ways he can’t even comprehend. He’s had bones broken, tendons torn and has felt the cold kiss of a blade slicing open his skin.

But this.

This is what breaks him.

-

“You’ve got to try and drink some.”

“I’m going to die. This is just makin‘ hell last longer.”

Matthew looks around at the broken splints in the wall, touches his bleeding knuckles. “What the hell happened? Boss come back down?”

Jensen doesn’t respond.

The grief is gone, the love is gone.

He’s left with nothing.

“I saw Jared today.” Matt says as he tears off a strip from the bottom of his shirt, dampens it with water before pressing it to his broken hand. It hurts; it makes him feel. “Don’t think you’ve got to worry about him being knocked around. He looked good and happy, was heading to dinner with Cortese.”

Salvatore.

Anger.

Rage swells, incinerating every shred of self-worth and respect he has held on to.

“How long we known each other Mattie?”

“Going on ten years.”

“I can trust you, can’t I?”

Matt glares at him. “I’m risking my throat to bring you Aquafina.”

“I need your help.”

“Just say the word.”

“We’re getting out of here.” Jensen picks up the ring, squeezes it against his palm until he can feel the imprint like a brand. “Tonight.”


	2. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings for: violence, minor character death, gratuitous mafia world build up. (ha, ha)
> 
> Hello!
> 
> Thank you for your amazing feedback! I had so much fun reading and replying to your comments.
> 
> Just a quick heads up, Jensen is a sociopath in this story. I don't think he's crazy but he does have a distinct lack of self control when it comes to violence. That will be explored later.
> 
> Side bar: the song lyrics are from songs i listened to while writing this fic; not necessarily any significance or relation to the story. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> xC

And this day's ending

Is the proof of time killing, all the faith I know.

Knowing that faith is all I hold.

Trading Yesterday | Shattered

 

** Seven Years Later **

 

It’s Thursday night and Jensen can’t think of a single place he’d rather be.

The building is three stories, secluded in the rundown sector that was once a bustling factory community. It smells like paint thinner and Jensen can hear the scratching of mice inside the walls. It’s where he and Matt had first huddled together, afraid to sleep and surrounded by vagrants who followed their movements with predatory lust in their eyes.

 Jensen likes the quiet.

 On nights like this, when the city slumbers, he appreciates sitting in the back of his luxury town car and observing the vacant windows and boarded up doors of the condemned apartments.

After Texas _this_ is where he comes from.

There’s poetry in these streets; he knows it.

The man in front of Jensen is currently begging for his life, the rust of his blood spatters Jensen’s Ferragamo dress shoes. Usually, Matt or Will do the dirty work. They enjoy it. But this is personal.

“Give me the locations.” Jensen repeats once more. The weight of a gun in hand no longer registers. It‘s as natural as breathing. “And this will all be over.”

“If I knew...” The man blubbers, blood spilling with his words to drip over his light blue shirt. Jensen can still hear Brian’s laughter when his hands had been bound. “You know the Boss…He’ll kill me.”

“I’m standing in front of you, not Carmine.” Jensen slides back the safety on the glock 26. “And I can assure you, I have no qualms about ending your miserable life. If you give me what I want, you can go easy.”

“Jensen, if you--”

The crack of the gun across Brian’s face cuts off his speech. Jensen feels the low thrum inside of him buzz to life. He’s excited. “Don’t ever think you have the right to address me by name.”

“I’m as good as dead if I give you the warehouse.”

“You’re dead if you don’t.”

Jensen recognizes the look that comes over the coward’s face. He knows that Brian is ready to die, that he’ll take whatever Jensen gives, for however long he gives it; the decision for silence been made. It forces his hand.

“You’re going to give your life for a man who would snap your neck on a whim?”

Brian lifts his chin in defiance. “You would never understand loyalty.”

Jensen ignores him, contemplates the gun in his hand. “After I’m done with you, I’m going to pay a visit to 2330 Bulkhead Avenue, see if your wife is feeling more hospitable. Do you think she‘ll prove to be as loyal after I pour battery acid down her throat?”

The insolence cracks. “You bastard.”

“You’ve got a daughter now? Don’t you? ” Jensen’s bluffing, even he has boundaries, but he knows that they all think different. To them, he’s a rabid dog. “Children listen at doors, perhaps little Lucy would be willing to share with the class.”

Jensen can see Brian surrender, takes in the slump of his shoulders.

“48 Leicester Drive.”

Jensen presses the barrel harder against his skull. “Go on.”

“2.…27560 Kraut and 58 Surface Street.”

“I know there are four in this city alone.”

“That’s all I know, I swear that’s all there is--”

Jensen pulls the trigger, welcomes the warm spray of blood and brain that fall on his face.

 

-

 

Matt drops down on the black leather sofa next to Jensen to stare down at the unobstructed view of the city. Loki trots in behind him, lying down at Jensen’s feet. Jensen reaches down and scratches behind the Rottweiler’s ears.

 

This is Jensen’s sanctuary. He’s spent countless nights staring down at blur below, mapping out every inch of Carmine’s territory.

 

He’s wondered where Jared is, somewhere in those city lights.

 

From up here, the world seems so far away, like nothing but an idea to be created or destroyed. None of it can touch him; none of them can reach his heights. He’s a long way from the scrounging and desperate boy he was when he first arrived in the city, looking for charity and a chance.

 

Jensen imagines he can hear the wail of the sirens, that he can taste the acrid smoke as it fills his lungs.

 

For now, the cigarette suffices. It stops the persistent shaking in his left hand, a constant reminder of Carmine.

 

Matt bums a light for his HMR reserve.

 

The scent curls around him like silk, sensuous and dark. “The city is burning.”

 

Yes, it is.

 

All three of Carmine’s storehouses light up the night sky, and nearly two thousand kilos of cocaine burn with it.

 

Jensen inhales deeply, savoring the heady rush of nicotine. “Have you ever seen a more beautiful sight?”

 

-

 

Two weeks to the day, Jensen is seated in a secluded booth at _Nico’s Café_ , sipping spiced cognac and coffee while Matt rambles off news from the morning paper.

 

Anyone looking in on the group would think they were relaxed; laughing easily and trading smiles but Jensen is coiled tight, ready to spring.   He’d been notified that Carmine had crossed into his territory an hour ago.

 

The bell above the door chimes pleasantly and Jensen knows by the abrupt change in atmosphere that it’s him.

 

Jensen counts the footsteps but keeps his eyes trained to his glass.

 

“You have my attention.”

 

Carmine has never been one to mince words.

 

Jensen takes his time, savors the taste of victory on his tongue. He wipes his mouth and folds his napkin neatly before raising his eyes. He gets his first glimpse of his former superior in seven years.

 

Unbidden, hundreds of images slash through him. Pain and betrayal, the heel of Carmine’s boot pressed against his throat as the world fragmented to darkness. The man has killed him more than once in his dreams.

 

“Carmine,” Jensen slaps on his most genial smile. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

“What do you want?”

 

Jensen is disappointed.

 

The man before him is nothing like the demon that lurks persistently in his thoughts. In his prime, Carmine had been the picture of Italian Alpha male, tan and charismatic. Now, he looks old, lines deep and mouth thin. The dark suit hangs on his noticeably thinner frame.

 

Beneath the table, Jensen’s hands are clenched atop his knees.

 

“You don’t look so good.” Jensen says and a few of his men snicker. “Stressed?”

 

“I should have killed you when I had the chance.” Carmine’s eyes flicker to Matthew at his right hand side, hatred stamped across his face. “Both of you.”

 

Jensen knows that but for his escape the bastard would’ve seen those dead a hundred times over. “I agree.”

 

“If it’s war you want, Ackles, I will give it to you.”

 

A lifetime ago, Jensen would’ve felt fear or at the very least trepidation. Padalecki is a name that holds weight. Or it used to. For the past seven years Jensen has been systematically taking his carefully constructed empire apart.

 

Now, Jensen feels nothing, no fear or anger: zilch. They both know that he’s the one holding the keys to the city but Carmine would gladly die rather than concede.

 

“I don’t want war.”

 

“You destroy my product, murder my men and wreak havoc--”

 

“All of which I’ve greatly enjoyed.”

 

Fire burns in the older man’s eyes; his hand falls to his hip, where his 45 is holstered.

 

Jensen’s men draw their weapons.

 

“Reach for your glock again Carmine and my hospitality will expire.”

 

“I’ll ask again: what do you want?”

 

Jensen closes his eyes, pleasure coursing through him. He wants to bask in this moment for just awhile longer, commit every detail to memory.

 

Carmine will slit his throat the first chance he gets; Jensen knows this because he would do the same in that situation. But what Jensen wants, what he _needs_ , is something only his enemy can give. Jensen has clawed his way to power, vengeance and hate fueling him every step of the way, for one reason. Jared.

 

There was a time when Jensen couldn’t even look the man in the eye, wouldn’t dare to. How things have changed. He rises, meets the man eye to eye, as an equal.

 

“Jared.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“I want Jared.”

 

A muscle in Carmine’s jaw ticks. “And if I refuse?”

 

“Then I destroy you and any one stupid enough to remain loyal to you.” Jensen doesn‘t suppress his smile this time, bares his teeth. “Your choice.”

 

Carmine slams his hands down flat on the table. The loud noise brings absolute silence, and Loki growls menacingly. The few outside patrons look alarmed.

 

Carmine leans across the table, voice a measured hiss of thinly harnessed rage. “You think I would give my only son to be a whore for you?”

 

“I think you’re desperate.”

 

“You _disgust_ him, Ackles, do you know that? He‘s embarrassed that he ever lowered himself to trash, and that is what you still are, _garbage_ , no matter your expensive suits and peddlers. My son would never allow you to even look at him again. He’d never agree.”

 

Jensen forces himself not to react, even though every fiber of his being demands he choke the man to death. It‘s not as if Carmine is saying something he hasn’t thought himself. “I never said I needed him to be willing.”

 

“My answer is no.”

 

“And they say you’re a smart man…”

 

The old man points a finger at him. “I’m warning you: stay away from my territory.”

 

Jensen’s laughter fills the cafe, loud and chilling. “Consider me warned.”

 

-

 

 

As is customary, they meet at a steak house in mid-Manhattan. Tonight Jensen is in the mood for red meat. Something bloody.

 

When he’s shown into the private room, his captains are waiting, seated around the white silk draped table. They’re the most powerful men in the state, all under his command.

 

William Moseley is what they refer to as the chemist. He’s book smart, could’ve been a college kid. More importantly, he knows how to make bodies into slush and does it with delight.

 

J.D. Morgan is seated next to him, saying something to Matthew. J.D. runs the gambling rings and brings in huge amounts of money overseeing the loan sharks.

 

Mark and Johnny Pellegrino are a package deal. They control the construction industry through the labor unions. Its old school but they’re persistent and loyal. More importantly, they make him solid income.

 

Robbie rounds out the group as the most valuable. He controls the dealers and distribution. Drugs are necessary, Jensen doesn’t subscribe to the disdain some of the older families have for it. The city has an appetite and he feeds it.

 

The place is swept for bugs daily, but the white noise machine is still played. You can never be too cautious in this game. You get sloppy and you get caught.

 

Trays of steaming food are brought out once Jensen takes his seat at the head, expensive wine and bourbon set by the gracious staff. They never go immediately into talk of business, instead using the time to exchange pleasantries, trade stories or information.

 

“Carmine contacted Biloxi.” Robbie says the moment Jensen puts down his steak knife. “Was putting feelers out for heroin.”

 

Biloxi troubles Jensen, always has. A man who can converse freely with his enemy is not someone he trusts. But Biloxi Is the biggest line for heroin in the North east, so Jensen has to buck up and deal with him. “And?”

 

“He’s holding off, for now.”

 

“What does he want in return?”

 

“20% increase.”

 

The noose tightens. “Is that what he told you?”

 

“I think he’ll settle for 10%.”

 

No one is worth that much trouble. “I’ll deal with him personally.”

 

“We’re having minor difficulty with Lope.” Will says. “He’s always short when Ben collects, but business has never been better; tits and ass are recession proof.”

 

“Why is Ben letting him get away with it?”

 

As always, anytime Ben gets called into question, Will goes on the defensive.

 

It’s no secret they’re fucking.

 

Will leans forward in his seat, expression thunderous. “Give me the go ahead and I’ll make sure he doesn’t cross you again.”

 

Mark snickers. “You should let your pussy boyfriend borrow your balls some time.”

 

Before Will can explode, Jensen interrupts. “Will, take care of it, and let Ben know that I expect my men to deliver. I won’t give him special treatment because he’s sucking your dick.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Will answers, burning gaze still fixed on Mark.

 

Will is gripping his steak knife forcefully and for a second, Jensen wonders if he’ll do it; Will is crazy enough. As conversation resumes and J.D. starts talking about the race tracks, his fingers slowly relax and he goes back to drinking.

 

Still, the mood has shifted. It gets even darker when Johnny brings up Jared. Jensen’s kept eyes on him for years now but this report cuts deep. He’d been at the cemetery for the anniversary for Salvatore’s death; the grieving widow.

 

Jensen can’t wait any longer.

 

 


	3. Lover I Don't Have to Love

I want a lover I don't have to love  
I want a girl who's too sad to give a fuck  
Where's the kid with the chemicals?  
I thought he said to meet me here but I'm not sure  
I got the money if you got the time  
You said it feels good I said I'll give it a try

Lover I Don’t Have To Love | Bright Eyes

 

Strobe lights and stale cigarette smoke do nothing to improve Jensen’s headache but here he is anyway. It’s habit to return after a particularly shitty day.

 _Prick_ is the first thing Jensen did on his own; the first thing that was his and his alone.

A year of selling meth for Donnie and he’d saved every cent; invested back in the product and made even more money off it. Donnie was small time, eager to expand but too stupid to forge a plan. Jensen ingratiated himself to the old bastard, and when things were going the right way,  gave him a gentle nudge to the afterlife. New Year’s Day that year saw him with enough money to buy a club on the brink of bankruptcy in the heart of midtown. Jensen first auditioned for Carmine there when it as still known as _Jessie’s_ \--call him sentimental.

The lounge has developed and flourished. It’s upmarket by gentleman’s club standards, boasting more than just tits and ass but a refinement that reels in the big fish. The men who pass through his custom made double doors are the most influential in the city. Politicians mingle freely with enforces, and more government contracts are sold and bartered at his tables than in any conference room.

Discretion is what makes them superior, and anyone who enters knows the sky is the limit, and if the price is right, everything and everyone is for sale. He takes care of the people who take care of him, and his staff knows that profit is the goal. They fall in line or fall off.

Ordinarily, Jensen would be down on the main floor, taking in the crowd, vetting the business and movements, making sure no outside shit is run under his nose but he’s too wired.

Tom and Chris are making their way to him. Tom isn’t dressed for business, catching his eye in white jeans and black tank. Tom’s too pretty for his own good; many men have been disarmed by that smile only to find themselves at the wrong end of a blade. It’s how they met.

Tom side steps Jensen’s bodyguards easily, three drinks in hand. “Jensen? Tequila?”

“Is there anything else?”

He hands Jensen a glass before sitting opposite him at the private table. “We’ve rounded up three more.”

The words don’t interest him. He’d known the moment he sent Tom after three of Carmine’s men that the job would get done.

Jensen drains half his glass in one go, eyes drifting to the main stage where Kristin is dancing. She’s got nothing on but silver panties, breasts exposed as she snakes her way down the pole, long brown hair hanging heavy.

She’s wearing a sultry smile; it always goes straight to his dick.

As the bass picks up, slamming hard and heavy, he watches her eyes search the room, lifting up to the alcove where the VIP lounge is. She’s dancing just for him; only for him.

“So _this_ is what eye fucking looks like.”

“Have her sent up when she’s done with her shift.”

“Again? You’re going to give her ideas, Boss man.” Chris has been managing _Prick_ for Jensen going on three years. Of course, getting in with the son of Johnny Kane hadn’t hurt his rise. Or his coke line. “Ain’t that the fourth time? Chase’s head is going to explode.”

“You keeping count, pervert?”

“I’m a sucker for fairytales.” Chris leers in Tom’s direction. “How about it Tommy, gonna finally get on your knees for me and be nice?”

Tom doesn‘t even look up from his phone. “Fuck off.”

“See?” Chris shrugs, pushing the brim of his black Stetson up with the mouth of his beer bottle. “Every night I keep on trying and every night he says no. Speaking of, where’s Matt?”

“Ask J.D.”

“He’d break my face.”

“Probably.”

Chris snorts. “Not all of us have a death wish. I’ve seen the reports; you’re more than a thorn in Padalecki’s side now. People are talking; they say you took down Goliath. ”

A smile tugs at his lips, “People will say what they want.”

“What’s your end game?”

“Whatever I want it to be.”

The door opens and Kristin walks into the lounge. She’s put on a short dark coat, and he imagines she’s completely naked beneath it. Jensen gets to his feet, returning her smile.

“Enjoy your night gentlemen.”

-

Nothing is out of place.

The house has remained the same.

Jared had expected it to be different but every last detail remains unchanged. The blue patterned china -- his grandmother's-- is still set out just the way it was years before, the way his mother had left it. The same framed photographs hang on the dark walls: his parents on their wedding day, his grandparents at the gates of their villa in Sicily, Jared weeks old swaddled in white christening cloth.

The consistency used to provide comfort, but now it’s disquieting. The house is a mausoleum, and all within the walls are entombed. Hadn’t Jared died here?

Palms sweating, Jared stands at the bottom of the carpeted stairs, trying to work up the courage walk up. There’s nothing here that can hurt him. Not anymore. He puts one foot atop the bottom step, hitting the brass holder with his sneaker. How many times did he play on these steps as a kid, sliding down the railing or jumping an entire flight just to see if he could?

Footsteps coming towards him from the kitchen are ultimately what force him upstairs.

The door to his bedroom is closed.

Jared takes a breath before he enters.

It’s musty, like the door has been closed for too long and no air has circulated. Time lays frozen here as well. His bed is the first thing he sees, posted in the right corner near the double windows. It has the same black sheets that were on it the day he left, now laundered and pulled tight at the corners. His books line the shelf above his desk: _Watership Down, The Things They Carried, For Whom the Bell Tolls_...

Jared runs his finger over the worn spines, halting when he touches one that’s unfamiliar: _Underworld_.

It’s Jensen’s; he would lay back on the bed with it, while Jared studied. It was always that book, never another. Jared wondered why.

He’s everywhere. His image is on the sheets, smiling on his desk chair, smoking on the couch, doing pushups beneath the mounted television, silhouetted against the wall…

It’s not until Jared’s vision goes hazey that he remembers to exhale.

“So the prodigal son returns.”

Jared stiffens, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with awareness. He hasn’t seen his father in nearly two years, not since he’d come to him for the second time, blood soaked and afraid.

He turns around slowly, trying to hold his composure. “What are you doing to stop the street war?”

“My boy.” Carmine’s eyes are bright in the low lighting. “I have missed you.”

Despite his resolve, Jared flinches. He has to remember that any affection his father feigns is a mirage. It’s always been too easy to mistake it for more.

“Chad is saying that Paolo and Mickey were attacked Thursday, left for dead. Your warehouses have been burned to the ground. What the fuck is going on?”

“If you’re here to discuss business, it’s best if we go to my office.”

Stifling his frustration, Jared follows him to the end of the hallway.

Once inside, Carmine shuts the heavy wood door. Jared’s picture is on his desk; he nearly vomits. It’s a photo taken on his wedding day.

His father walks over to the French Boulle and Brass Inlay liquor cabinet, pours a glass of brandy. “You know, you never gave me a chance.”

“To what?”

“To protect you.” Carmine drinks slowly, eyes watching his over the glass. “I would have wrung his neck myself.”

“You gave me to him.”

Angry tears burn at Jared eyes; he’s just come from the cemetery, lain fresh flowers over where his son rests.

Everything that happened, everything he went through, is as much of his father’s fault as it is his.

The old rage blisters, threatens to take away his purpose and determination.

“Had I known--”

“It’s Jensen, isn’t it?” The name is unfamiliar on his tongue. Jared hasn’t allowed himself to say it aloud for so long. Back then it hurt too much. It still does. “He’s the one behind all of this.”

“It could be anyone.” It’s an obvious lie. “You don’t get to my position without making enemies.”

“It could be anyone but you met with him.”

His father swears, slamming his glass down on the edge of the desk. “I should have cut out Murray’s tongue long ago.”

“What did he have to say? What does he want for peace?”

“This doesn’t concern you, Jared.”

“This is _my_ Family, people I love are getting hurt: I’m making this my business.”

Carmine takes his time before he acquiesces. “It doesn’t matter, the man is a dog. What he asks is impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible.” Jared counters. “Isn’t that what you always told me?”

“This time it is-- _this time_ , I will protect you.”

-

Nicholas runs to him, arms outstretched and Jared catches the small child easily, lifting him into the air. He throws him high to make him laugh, feeling like a king when Nicky gives him a toothy smile.

Genevieve is watching the two of them fondly. “He missed you.”

Jared hugs Nicholas close, nodding in acknowledgement to Bruno when he sets down the diaper bag on the dining room table. Bruno comes with the landscape; this is still Salvatore‘s house.

“I’m his favorite uncle.”

“His only uncle.”

Jared ignores her and tickles Nicky, soaking in the little boy’s chatter as he trips over his words in an attempt to tell Jared about his day. Nicholas is a Cortese through and through, dark eyes and hair, charm in spades. When Jared looks at him he can’t help but feel sorrow; his child may have looked much the same.

“How’s Vincent?”

“He’s at the track.” Gen’s smile twists into something painful. “Not really adapting to Sal’s death.”

There’s no remorse in Jared for the older man and no regret for what he did. He phrases his words carefully, always careful. “We were all devastated when he passed.”

Gen nods, eyes dropping to her hands. Her nails are bitten to the quick. “Sal he was…” She trials off and neither of them finish whatever halfhearted sentiment she was going to offer.

“Did you eat?”

“No-no!” Nicholas responds emphatically and they laugh. “Eat?”

Jared hoists Nicky unto his hip and heads for the kitchen. “I’ve got left over Bolognese; Philomena has made it her mission to put meat on my bones.”

“My mother can be very over bearing.”

“She worries.”

“We all do.”

Jared sets out plates and puts Nicky down. “Bruno, my father left a package for you. It’s in the safe on the second floor.”

The big man nods and after a hesitation he leaves the room.

Gen crosses directly to him, speaking low enough that Nicky can‘t hear. “How are you really?”

The walls are caving in; there are too many eyes on him to count.

“I’m fine.”

“All my father can talk about are the fires. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry in my life.” She shudders. Jared can see she’s trembling. “Did the police make any more arrests? They’re still holding Enzo for questioning.”

“All my father’s men are accounted for.” Jared feels guilty knowing her husband is still being held without bail, especially knowing that someone has to take the fall and Enzo owes too much to walk away unscathed.

“And Lucca?”

“He died on the way to St. Peters.”

“Why is this happening?” Gen presses her mouth into a thin line, anguish filling her eyes. When she starts crying, Jared pulls her into a hug. He wishes he could make this all go away. “When will this end?”

-

“Shots!” Matt yells, pounding the sticky bar top. “More shots!”

Another row of glasses are lined up and poured sloppily. Danneel seems off her ass herself but is liberal with the drinks and her fantastic rack  brings in enough tips that Jensen over looks it. There are worse things than a bartender who’s always drunk or high. He’s been watching her since he walked in to _Fantasy_. She’s a beautiful woman, tall and voluptuous, soft and pliable where men are hard and unyielding.

Matt thrusts the shot glass forward, sloshing more alcohol unto the bar. “Have some.”

“You drink too much.”

“You drink too little.”

Can’t argue with that logic.

Jensen takes the whiskey shot and throws it back. He watches Matt toss back another. He always gets like this around April. Most people welcome the hint of spring but for Mattie, the warm air brings memories he doesn’t want to face.

This is his way of dealing with it: drinking, violence and fucking around.

“Where’s your bull dog?”

“J.D. can go fuck himself.”

“That kind of a night, huh?”

“Yep.” Matt squints at him under the flashing lights. Jensen doesn‘t miss how close he‘s standing, thigh pressed against his. He can smell the tequila on his breath, the faint scent of smoke on his tight black v neck shirt. “Are you going to be fun tonight?”

Matt’s a walking wet dream, those eyes and lips would turn a dead man on.

They haven’t done this, not since before J.D. came on the scene, and even then it was more out of loneliness.

“Maybe.”

Matt grins and grabs Jensen’s hand. “Come dance with me.”

As soon as they’re out on the main floor with the bodyguards posted around them, Matt wraps around him like a vine, hands sliding down his back and ass. He’s hard; Jensen can feel him against his thigh.

Jensen looks at him and Matt takes the opportunity to kiss him, all teeth and tongue. It feels like an assault, barely controlled violence and desperation.

His pupils are dilated, face flush and hair damp with sweat.

“You’re high, Mattie.”

“So?”

“Nothin’.” Jensen holds him closer when he feels Matt‘s fingers digging into his back. It’s not sexy, it’s frantic. He’s trying to find something to hold on to, something to ground him; whatever Matt’s got flowing in him is identical to what’s inside of him. “I got you.”

That stops the shaking.

At least for a little while.

There’s nothing Jensen can offer to make the memories disappear, so he does what he can: he drinks, he laughs and he snorts lines until nothing matters.

It’s nearly four in the morning when they spill out of the back into the waiting car, Jensen waving Danneel on her way. Matt’s a wreck, but he’s smiling and the glassy eyed look is gone.

“C’mon.” Matt cajoles, fingers sliding over his thigh suggestively. “I could suck you off here, or we can wait to have real fun at your place?”

“Sure.” Jensen lies easily. “Just need some air.”

Jensen shuts the car door behind him and takes in deep breaths of the cool night air. He’s on his second cigarette before he gives in and pulls out his cell.

“Boss?”

J.D. doesn’t sound like he’s been sleeping was probably expecting this.

“I’ve got Matt with me.”

There’s a loaded silence. “He alright?”

The whole truth and nothing but the truth.“Horny.”

“Alone?”

The distrust is there, embedded in the words but Jensen isn’t Matthew and he doesn’t owe him any explanations. They both know that.

But as fucked as Jensen is, Matt’s dealing with demons that never go away; crawl under his skin and drag him under a few weeks a year. Sometimes it’s set off by dates, sometimes by a stranger and sometimes it grabs him from thin air. Jensen sees the hollow eyes and just knows he’s thirteen again. It doesn’t matter that those assholes are dead, that they’d done it together.

They’re still alive for Matt, still real.

Even Jensen can’t kill a ghost.

It leaves him livid to feel helpless. “I should be at the penthouse in twenty minutes, I expect you to be there.”

J.D. knows it’s an order and not a request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers:
> 
> That awkward moment where it's part 3 and J2 still have not been in a scene together.. don't hate me! Trust me, it's getting there. I just have so much buildup and atmosphere building I keep getting lost in. If you have any ideas, let me know!
> 
> Spoiler Alert: they do meet on Sunday, and it gets dark (not that dark, but a turn). You have been warned.
> 
> Love you guys!  
> xC


	4. Blue Jeans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!
> 
> WARNINGS ADDED: Mentions of Abortion, possible violence to children
> 
> OMG i thought for sure i wasn't going to be able to post today but i got it done!! My parents and little brother came to see me and we spent the day eating and catching up--perfection. Anyway, I am literally patting myself on my back bc i made the deadline i set for myself. I even reviewed it a bit to catch some mistakes before posting ( I'm sure there are tons more)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy, as always let me know what you think/if you have any scenes you'd like/any ideas?
> 
> Love you all!
> 
> xC

Blue jeans, white shirt  
Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn  
It was like James Dean, for sure  
You're so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer  
Lana Del Ray | Blue Jeans

 

The first time Jared met Jensen was on a Sunday. Jensen used to say that meant it was no fate; that all good things come on a Sunday; everything celebrated and untainted. The change was immediate, at least for him. Jared’s entire being had tingled with awareness.

Sunday Mass with his father had been something of a joke. From the ornate pews, Jared would stare up at the serene statutes and wonder how his father reconciled this world of forgiveness with his world of blood. He never understood why Carmine clung so tightly to religion and regulation when his life was lawless. There was no God that would condone what the Family did, and yet the priest continued to open the gilded doors and allow them inside; the shepherd ushering in the thieves and wolves.

That day Jared had walked out of service, away from the stifling penance and into the light. And there he was: blonde hair slicked back, bent over the flame of a cigarette and pushing every single button Jared didn’t even know he had. He’d been shy back then, asked for a light and Jensen had obliged beautiful lips curved into a sardonic smile. Their hands had brushed together, just for a few seconds, but it was enough to ignite a flame.

Jensen’s sea green eyes had flickered up to his, questioning and Jared, fresh out of boarding school, frantically searched for the words to impress him. It hadn’t mattered that Jensen was his Father’s man, that he lived every moment in the line of fire; it excited him.

They’d been good together, better than.

Every time Jensen touched him, kissed him, spoke to him, Jared’s body surged to life. He was alive. It was dangerous, forbidden, and that made them want it even more.

Jared never could have known what it would cost him.

Even though Carmine refuses to give him details about his meeting with Jensen, Jared knows that the other man is bent on making them suffer. Every man in their Family has a target on their back.

People talk.

After all these years, Jensen has decided to make them pay. It’s obvious in every single minded attack. They’re bleeding out, the Padalecki Family is dying, and they all know it even as they watch the new Order rise. There are nervous speculations, and some of the older men who remember the glory days speak of turf wars and dying the honorable way: by the gun. It’s better to die than be killed. They mean to sound brave, but Jared sees through it for what it is: bravado.

Change is coming and the Padaleckis are on the wrong end of it.

Jared gazes at his reflection in the mirror, watching his own hazel eyes stare back. The man in the mirror is thin, on the edge of gaunt, brown hair shaggy and hanging down to his collar. He keeps it long to cover the scar. He wonders if he should shave. He looks like shit. He’s forgotten what fear feels like, hasn’t felt anything for so long but it’s there now. He’s agitated, tense and looking behind him everywhere he goes.

Salvatore’s shaving cream dispenser sits on the right hand side, and Jared plugs it in, perversely enjoying his dead spouse’s comforts. After blotting on the warm foam, Jared grabs the gold handled razor and gets to work on scraping away the week’s scruff.

“Ready?”

Jared startles, sending his straight razor clattering down into the sink and nicking his chin in the process. Blood splatters against the porcelain basin. “Shit.”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you; Bruno let me in.”

Genevieve is standing at the door, dressed conservatively in a black pencil skirt and white silk blouse. Her hair has been left in loose waves around her slim shoulder, and when she smiles she looks like her brother.

“It’s fine.” Jared presses a hand towel to his skin, stopping the flow. “Aftershave is gonna be a bitch though.”

“Beauty is pain.”

“If you say so.” Jared splashes some cologne on anyway, gritting his teeth at the sting.

“You look very handsome.” Gen steps closer and adjusts his tie, smoothing down his suit lapels. “I love the Prada on you.”

“Let’s head out.” Jared attempts to muster a smile. “Did you speak will Adriano this morning? I’ve never seen a grown man so nervous for a baptism.”

“Well, I can’t judge. It’s an important moment in a child’s life. I was a wreck with Nicky and Enzo was no better. You want everything to be just so.”

Jared remembers that day clearly. It had been the start of summer, Sal only months in the ground and Gen with violet flowers in her hair. He’d been happy.

When they get outside of his building, Michael is leaning against the black Mercedes G Wagon. He’s dressed in black, holster visible under his light evening jacket.

Jared bristles at the sight of his father‘s man. “I don’t need you.”

Michael stubs his cigarette out. “Boss says you do.”

Gen looks between them uneasily. “Is this about the warehouses?”

“It’s about nothing.” Jared responds before Mike can open his trap. He has enough to deal with. “He’s being over protective.” The words leave a bitter taste on his tongue; when he had actually needed his father’s protection, it had been denied. “Just get in the car. We’ll be late if we argue.”

Michael opens the door and ushers them in. “That’s the spirit.”

Once they’re seated behind the tinted, bulletproof glass, Gen loses all interest in why Jared needs an escort and begins discussing the fund raiser they’re planning in three weeks’ time. The Carrier Clinic is in its fifth year and despite the shaky start and financial difficulties, it’s finally doing well. They’re not turning much of a profit but that’s not the goal.

The Clinic is personal for Jared. It’s vital for expectant men and women to have a safe haven, without being burdened by cost. Salvatore’s money had been used to make something good; to save lives instead of taking. Jared’s mission is to give those in need a choice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Gen squeezes his hand and Jared looks down to see the black inscription on her wrist, identical to the one he bears on his neck. It’s proof that he hadn’t been alone. “You seem preoccupied.”

That someone else in the world knows what happened and is still here.

“I’m fine.”

It’s obvious that gen doesn’t believe him but she doesn’t press, merely bends her head down until it rests on his shoulder.

That silence makes a friendship all the more beautiful.

“I’m fine.” Jared repeats, just to hear his voice say it.

And it’s the truth and a lie at once.

He is fine.

He is broken.  
He’s fallen apart yet stapled at the seams; he won’t shatter into a million little pieces.

Jared’s learned to survive.

-

It’s mid-morning and Jensen is drinking coffee at the kitchen bar after his workout when Matt comes out of the guest room. J.D. is on his heels. They’re both shirtless and wearing boxers, hair mussed. It would seem they resolved any and all differences from last night. J.D. forgives so easily, it’s what makes him weak. What makes Matt do the shit he does.

Jensen snorts in disgust but they both ignore him in favor of getting coffee.

Sometimes, Jensen fantasizes about killing J.D. even though the man is his friend.

There’s an ugly, inexplicable streak of possession that comes over him where Matthew is concerned.

Jensen drums his blunt nails over the marble table, feeling the restlessness ratchet up his spine as he listens to the other men talk. Everything in Jensen’s condo has been handpicked by Jensen himself, the marble, chrome and modern lines are impersonal and keep him on his guard. This is home; it usually brings him out of his headspace, except for right now. Right now, he feels trapped, restricted and cornered. He needs to vent, to do something to make that feeling of free falling go away.

There are no words to explain it.

“I’m bored.” Jensen says.

Matt looks at him warily but interested all the same. “What do you want to do about it?”

“We’re wasting time sitting here.”

“We agreed to wait, let Padalecki come to us.”

“It’s been a week.” Jensen can see a dark bruise over his collar bone. “I spoke with Will and he thinks we should hit Carmine today. He‘ll have his guard down.”

Distaste twists J.D.‘s features. He still has a conscience. “At a christening?”

“Why not?”

“There’s a limit, Jensen.” J.D. gripes. “There will be children running around, families--.”

“Then make sure your aim is perfect.” Jensen looks at Matt, “What do you say?”

“I’m not the one who was sentimental about that shit.” Matt gives J.D. a look.that clearly means to stand down. “If you decide to, I’ll ride with you.”

“Good.” Jensen pushes back from the bar stool and heads to the bathroom. “Call Mark and Kane; be ready to leave in twenty minutes.”

It’s senseless, to roll on the Padaleckis in broad daylight with the Feds watching but Jensen is betting on the boys in blue standing down. He’s seen this before. The Feds would rather have the trash exterminate each other then get their own hands dirty and risk their own men.

Jensen turns the water on as hot as he can stand it, lifting his face up under the spray until he feels like he’s drowning. Adriano had been the one to tie his hand to the post as Carmine snapped the bone of his wrist with his heavy boot before breaking every single one of his fingers. He doesn’t deserve to have a day of normalcy, doesn’t deserve to have a child to hold when Jensen still struggles to grip a fucking knife every time he eats dinner.

The skin on his body is pink and puckered, freckles that Jared used to kiss twisted into scar tissue and lesions that still ache. Jensen looks down at his own body and feels like a prisoner.

Carmine is the enemy, and he’s Jensen’s focus but Jensen won’t deny himself the small measure of peace he gets every time he takes out one of the men who gladly participated in his torture.

-

Colleen is a petite, matronly woman, the top of her blonde head not even reaching Jared’s chin. She’s always been a gentle soul, passing her time keeping house and looking after her children. After his mother’s passing, she’d taken Jared into her brood. With her, he was allowed to be a child, to cry and mourn properly in a way his father denied. His breaks from school had always found him at her house, in her kitchen or backyard as she baked delicious sweets and pruned her roses.

Her eldest, Adriano, while older and hot tempered, had been a companion. He and Jared spent those early summers playing jacks and trying to hustle the neighborhood kids for baseball cards. As they got older and their roles more defined, Adriano became less of a prick and more of a protector. He stopped teasing Jared and instead deferred to him on everything.

It annoyed him, but Adriano always said that that was how it had to be.

That was how it was with most of his relationships, the moment people realized who Jared was—or who his father was—they treated him differently.

But not Colleen, she scolded him and made him leave his muddy shoes at the door. That had meant the world to him.

She’s done so much for him and has never asked for a thing in return.

A week from burying Lucca, Adriano is in the hospital, in critical condition after sustaining four gunshot wounds. They’d been at christening, outside of the fucking church, Jensen has no boundaries; he’s made that clear.

Jared’s ears still ring with the rapid fire.

For all the good Colleen’s done for him, he’s repaid her with death. Her children are dying one by one; all of them in his place. He can’t stand by and let that happen.

Jared can fix this. He can protect the people he loves.

With unsteady hands, he reaches for the phone.

-

The city is stirring beneath Jensen’s eyes, traffic is grinding to a halt, pedestrians are running the streets like ants to their crappy 9 to 5s and the cemetery makes room for another Padalecki man.

Jensen is in a great mood.

“Jared Padalecki to see you, sir.”

Jensen doesn’t turn around when Will speaks even though every cell in his body is with anticipation. He’s waited for so long; passed the years dreaming of the day he’d make Jared sorry, have him begging for Jensen to put an end to it all. Those first leans years, his only sustenance had been the thought of those hazel eyes wrecked and filled with tears.

His moment is finally here.

At the second pair of footsteps, Jensen turns, and hates himself when he falters minutely.

The years have been kind to the Padalecki Prince.

Nothing has changed and yet everything is no longer the same.

Jared’s presence sucks the air from the large room.

No longer a teenager, he’s grown into his thin frame, filling out into lean muscles that are displayed beautifully beneath fine Italian silk. His chestnut hair hangs over his face to his collar; it’s longer than before; messy and so unlike the precocious boy he once loved.

His own thoughts leave Jensen furious. He hates remembering how weak he allowed himself to become. How stupid he had been before.

Aware of Jared’s discomfort, Jensen takes his time looking, racking his gaze over Jared’s lithe form from the soles of his feet until he finally meets his cat like eyes.

Jared looks away first.

Apprehension radiates off of Jared in waves.

“Leave us.” Jensen says and Matthew hastily closes the door, leaving them alone.

There are numerous scenarios rushing through Jensen mind, he could choke the life from Jared here, wrap his fingers around that long neck and squeeze until there is nothing left. He could ask for answers, find out why his unborn child was so easily discarded like trash.

He could…

He could prolong his suffering; keep him wondering when the death blow would strike.

“Hello, Jared.”

The boy steps forward, eyes lifting from the deep red carpet of Jensen‘s study.

Jared doesn’t reply to his name, just meets his gaze with his steady one.

This Jared is just as beautiful as he is in Jensen’s memories.

Jensen remembers him drenched in sunlight, head thrown back in laughter and hands warm at his cheek. He remembers him dappled in moonlight, stretched out over his sheets, grasping at his back and begging for him; for more.

He still dreams of the way Jared had looked at him, as if he held the world in his eyes.

The bitterness bleeds through all of that, splinters the memories to expose them for what they are: lies. Jensen has spent the past seven years in purgatory, and every day he has sworn never to forget. The past can only be weakness if he lets it.

It‘s a small measure of comfort to see that Jared is unsettled when he does speak. “What… what do I have to do to make this stop?”

Jensen rises and walks around his desk. He stops directly in front of Jared and leans back against the edge, feet crossed in front of him. He takes his time in responding; knowing that with each passing second of silence Jared grows more anxious. “I’ve provided my terms to your father.”

“He says that you’re asking for the impossible.”

Jensen laughs; that wily old asshlole. “Hardly.”

“Then what?” Jared asks. “If I can give it to you—if I have it, I’ll gladly trade whatever you want for peace.”

“You are it.”

“What?’

“You’re it.” Jensen repeats shameless, watching the ashen face. “What I want is you; in my bed, under my thumb.”

“You want… me?” Jared questions quietly, a look of disbelief marring his features. “To make all of this stop, all I have to do is…”

“Service me.”

A bright red flush suffuses Jared’s pale face.

“Service you.” Jared bites his lip and Jensen wants to replace those teeth with his own. He‘s overcome with the need to dominate this man, shove him down into his place and show him a fraction of the hell Jensen lived through. “For how long?”

This is the brass ring.

“For as long as it takes for you to give me the child you robbed me of seven years ago.”

All the blood drains from Jared’s face, and the look of horror shatters the stoic mask he‘s worn since he walked in. It’s the first honest reaction he’s seen and Jensen savors it.

Jared’s hand comes over his mouth and for a moment Jensen thinks he’s going to vomit.

So the thought of bearing Jensen’s child leaves the little Prince physically ill.

It doesn’t surprise Jensen but it does nothing to calm his ire.

“You c-can’t be serious.”

“I always collect what is my due.”

“This…you’re talking about.” Jared shakes his head, wringing his hands as he begins to pace. He looks like an ant beneath a magnifying glass, the heat is rising and it's only a matter of time before he’s engulfed in flames. “You can’t do this. You don‘t want to do this. Not really.”

“But I do.”

“This is a child, Jensen. Not…not.” Jared sputters. “You can’t do this.”

Jensen continues to stare at him, unwavering.

“I know you’re angry, Jensen, but let me explain.” Jared switches tactics and a sour taste rises in Jensen’s mouth. He’d expected the tearful pleas to be employed. Little Bitch. “I never meant to hurt you or--”

“Should you wish to reject the agreement, Jared, I won’t stop you. You can walk out the door right now. But it won’t stop: the violence and the death? I will never stop until I obliterate anyone who has anything to do with the Family.”

The panic makes Jared wild-eyed. “Don’t ask me to do this, Jensen. I know that you hate me, you have every right to hate me, but--”

“Yes or no.”

“This child will be half mine, half Padalecki, you don’t want that—”

“My patience has run out.” Jensen unstraps his glock, levels it between Jared’s eyes. “You have two options: reject and walk or stay and shut the fuck up. If you continue to waste my time, I’ll waste you.”

The seconds tick off in silence for several moments.

Jensen feels a prick of moisture at the small of his back, nerves.

But then Jared’s eyes fall, bright with defeat. “Y-yes.”

“You have 24 hours to collect whatever belongings you need.”

“You expect me to stay here?”

Jensen doesn’t respond, just watches Jared fidget.

“I can’t leave Harley and Sadie.”

The two puppies had been an eighteenth birthday gift. He’d brought Jared down to the pound to choose one and the dumb kid hadn’t been able to part the two trembling dogs.

“Didn’t think you’d still have them.” Jensen remembers watching them leave the chapel, Jared’s hand in Sal’s matching rings on their fingers. He’d been days out of the hospital, still fighting infection in his back where the skin had been flayed to bone in some places. “Can’t imagine Salvatore was a fan.”

“They’re my dogs.” Jared says, thread of steel in his voice. “They go where I go.”

Jensen has other battles to fight; other victories to collect; he'll give the boy crumbs. The dogs can even be used to keep him in line. “Make sure you see Misha on the way out.”

-

Jared had been certain that he'd dealt with the worst life could give him. He'd told himself that the pain was over, that there was nothing left to give.

He'd comforted himself on nights where tears threatened to choke him with the knowledge that the agony was behind him, and he was stronger for it.

He'd sworn to never put himself into the position of pawn again.

The moment he walked into Jensen's building all of those words had become a lie.

And there Jensen is: blonde hair parted to the left and slicked back, with all the warmth of a slab of granite in his green eyes.

Jared is faced with a stranger, there's nothing of his Jensen left.

All the past pain comes rushing to the surface, barely healed wounds torn open to bleed. Jensen is going to force him, make him go through that pain and certainty all over again. And if he can carry to term, Jensen will rip his child away from him. The past is now his future.

The worst is yet to come.


	5. Still Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello My Loves!
> 
> So here it is: WARNING, unhealthy relationship. If that upsets you, please run for the hills. i don't want to trigger anyone. Jensen and Jared get physical, nothing horrible or over the top but SPOILER for J hitting J; i.e a dramatic slap.
> 
> You guys have been so awesome and supportive, it really encourages me ;)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!!
> 
> XC

Shut me out completely,  
That would not be such a sin.  
Lock up every entry,  
Make sure that there’s no way for me to get in  
Won’t try to pry them open,  
Never mind knock upon your doors.  
Truth is that there’s no reason for me to even see your face anymore.

Paolo Nutini | Still Crazy

-

It takes Jared less than an hour to gather everything he needs.

Jared doesn’t have much by way of possessions. The five hundred square foot closet is packed with designer items, fine Italian leather and fur lined jackets. Salvatore had a thing for trussing himself up with big names; all the better to hide behind. He spent thousands on his wardrobe, and once they were married, Jared became a mannequin.

Bypassing the front of the closet, Jared takes a handful of tee shirts and jeans, toiletries and his mother’s locket. He’s on autopilot, touching without really seeing as panic trickles through the haze.

Run.

It’s been the first thing on Jared's mind since he left Jensen’s apartment.

Jared considers his options. If he doesn’t get back to Jensen’s penthouse in an hour, Misha will most likely be dispatched for the next spat of violence. The christening had been enough. Jared can’t stand to see another person losing a loved one because of him. And this _is_ his fault.

Back then, Jared had been given an impossible choice, he could either destroy Jensen with lies or let him die knowing the truth. There was no way Jared could fathom living in a world where Jensen was buried beneath the earth in concrete. He needed him to be alive, to be in the same city even if he despised him.

The anger and hate that drives Jensen is something Jared put there. And Jensen _does_ hate him; Jared had seen it in his eyes, the green fire of disgust and lust burning all at once.

There’s no other way but Jensen’s way.

When it’s nearing three o’clock and the end of the hour, Jared brings his suitcases down the stairs. Bruno is slouched against the wall, face illuminated by the blue screen of his cell phone.

Jared’s gone over this several times in his mind; he needs to be careful. His father can’t know he’s accepted Jensen’s terms for peace, not until after he’s in Jensen’s territory and the deed irreversible. His father must have been given much the same terms, but had refused. Jared doesn’t know why; he’d been more than willing to hand Jared over to be a broodmare to the Cortese Family. Carmine will be furious---

And there’s the silver lining.

“Going somewhere, Sir?”

“My father’s.”

Bruno squints at him, skeptical. “I’ll get the car.”

“Michael is coming to escort me.”

“Then I’ll wait for him to come to the door.”

Fucking overgrown babysitter.

Jared gives him a tight smile. “Sure thing.”

He’d expected this.

One thing his father has always taught him is to have a plan B.

Jared sits at the bottom of the carpeted stairs, eyes falling to the half empty water bottle on the hall table. He’d been right to spike the water beforehand. Bruno would’ve never let him leave.

It takes ten more minutes for the symptoms to show. Rohypnol is a mild sedative but the dose is enough to knock the man down. It just takes time.

Under the hall lights, Bruno’s skin is pale, sweaty and flushed.

“You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine.” The big man sways on his feet. “Just need to…”

He goes down like a ton of bricks.

Jared steps over the prone body and pauses to looks around the foyer of the house he’s been held in for the past seven years. He’s not sad to leave it. Every inch is still Salvatore. The dark colors and wood paneling. He’s always felt trapped here but has  never left, even after Salvatore’s death. It’s his way of letting the ghost know he hasn’t won, that he has no power over Jared in death.

It’s his way of remembering his son; how he felt in his arms for those brief moments. His delicate scent plays at the edge of Jared’s dreams.

It’s his way of remembering how he’d been ripped in two when he awoke and they were empty.

The dogs come running when Jared whistles, always excited to get out. Jared locks the door behind him, considers rolling Bruno unto his side just in case the man has over dosed but then realizes he doesn’t care. He takes the keys to his old car.

“Calm down, guys.” The dogs are barking like crazy, and people are giving them looks.

Jared opens the back of the Range Rover and ushers them in. At least Jensen’s building has roof top access; the dogs can have space to run around up there if he can’t get them to the park. Jared’s not sure what situation he’s walking in to; he wonders if he’ll be locked up in a room twenty four seven.

When Jared starts the car, More Than a Feeling by Boston comes through the speakers and Jared’s suddenly seventeen years old again.

_“Wait, wait…” Jared moans, squirming when Jensen does the opposite of wait and grabs his ass to haul him closer. He friction makes him see stars and he feels desperate to get off, to move against Jensen and have him inside of him. “Jensen.”_

_“Don’t tell me to wait, baby.” Jensen bites his lip, licks over the tiny hurt. “Please.”_

_There’s nothing hotter than when Jensen begs all bright eyes and pouty lips; Jared would give him anything. This is the closest they’ve been and Jared needs this. “Jensen.”_

_“Don’t tell me you’re a tease.” Jensen pants; allowing Jared to break off the kiss. He starts kissing down Jared’s neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks Jared will have to hide. “I’ll leave your ass on the side of the highway, Jare, I mean it.”_

_Jared snorts. “Yeah right, my Dad would break your legs.”_

_“He’d throw me to the dogs is what he’d do.” Jensen grins but the thought makes Jared sober. “But then again, he’d do that anyway if he knew I was touchin’ his precious little boy.”_

_“I’m not a little boy.”_

_Jensen‘s gaze slides down his body like a caress. “Nah, you ain’t.”_

_Jared rolls his eyes, shifting a bit in the small back seat of the car to reach inside the glove compartment for his cds._

_“Music? Really, you wanna play music now?”_

_“I’ve always dreamt of losing my virginity to this song.” Jared pushes the CD into the deck-- only Jensen’s car would still have something so outdated-- and the opening bars of Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” sound into the back seat, bass coming in heavy._

_1980s movies are the inspiration for the soundtrack of his life._

_“You’ve gotta be fuckin kidding me." Jensen groans, head falling back unto the leather seat, but he’s smiling that funny little smile, the one he gets where he’s trying to stop himself from laughing too hard. Jared loves that smile the most. “You’re nuts.”_

_“Nuts over you.” Jared sing- songs. He does his best impression of a lap dance, mostly grinding in a way that frustrates both of them and does little to abate the edge of hunger._

_He starts shooting pistols with his hands as the beat picks up and this time Jensen does laugh full out, grabbing Jared by the hips and pulling him down unto his lap until they fit together perfectly._

_“Sing to me.”_

_“Hell no.”_

_“C’mon, I know you know the words, you sap.”_

_“No.”_

_“Jenny.”_

_That gets him a hard pinch to the side. “Not helping your case.”_

_As much as Jensen tries to resist, Jared coaxes it out of him, and he gives in. With their foreheads pressed together, Jared mouths the words against Jensen’s smiling mouth._

_“It's more than a feeling, when I hear that old song they used to play--”_

_“More than a feeling--”_

_“I begin dreaming--”_

_“More than a feeling.”_

_Jensen pulls him forward, the momentum smashes their lips together and they start laughing all over again._

They’d been young and dumb.

And in love.

It’s hard to imagine that the same man who sang to him is now one of the most dangerous and deadly mobsters in the city.

Back then Jensen had been so sweet, afraid to hug him to hard or be rough.

That afternoon in South Jersey seems like light years away.

 

-

“Your chambers, my prince.”

Jared chooses to ignore Matthew’s sarcasm, shouldering the heavy door open with his suitcases in hand. Anything he’s said has been cause for the other man to snap at him. He reminds Jared of a frothing dog, waiting for him to step out of line.

Spoiling for a fight, Matthew pushes past him, and Harley reacts instantly to the aggression, back going stiff and lip curling back to bare his teeth.

Matt looks down at the dog derisively. “Loki doesn’t play well with others.”

“Loki?”

“Jensen’s one hundred and twenty pound Rottweiler.”

“I’m not worried.” Jared pats Harley on the side of the head, letting him know to stand down. He drops the suitcases down at the foot of the king sized bed. “They can hold their own.”

“I hope you can too.”

“I’m sure you remember I can.”

Matt sneers. “We were kids back then.”

“Are you going to stand in the doorway all evening? Is that part of this plan of intimidation?” Jared squares his shoulders. He’s taller than Matt now and draws confidence from it. Just because he’s under Jensen’s thumb, doesn’t mean he’s going to roll over and play dead.

Matt steps up to him, nose to nose; he can feel the heat coming from his mouth.

There isn’t a soul in the city who doesn’t know just what Matthew is capable of. He feeds off of Jensen’s darkness, expands into sadistic, prolonged torture and gets off on it.

Jared doesn’t move.

“Matt.” An older man breaks the standoff from the hallway; Jared’s seen him around before but can’t place him. “Jensen needs us at the docks. Let the kid be,”

With a final contemptuous glare, Matt walks away, slamming the door in his wake.  
Jared waits for the turning of the lock but it never comes.

Jared is left alone.

As far as jail cells go, it’s not bad. The room is slightly smaller than what he’s used to, done up in dark blue and grey. It’s gothic; muted tones that remind him of a wet, rainy day. Harley curls up near the bed and Sadie jumps up unto the long window seat, unsettling decorative pillows in her enthusiasm. It’s all clearly expensive and unlived in; this isn’t Jensen’s room, is it?

Jared’s stomach flips when his eyes settle on the large bed. He can hear Jensen’s voice in his mind; cold and level. You: in my bed, under my thumb. Jared shivers unconsciously, he’s not sure what to expect.

Will Jensen touch him?

Will Jensen hurt him?

Will he enjoy it?

Now is not the time to get wrapped up in his thoughts. Jared’s also decided something else while he drove.

Making sure to lock the bedroom door, Jared unpacks his protection. He slides the switchblade from the pocket of his jeans under the mattress and tapes his .45 to the bottom of the headboard, placing the black and brown pillows over it.

Harley noses his hand when he passes, barking softly. “It’ll be okay.” Jared scratches behind his ears, before hiding the snub-nosed revolver behind a watercolor.. “We’ll be okay.”

The final thing Jared secrets away is a bottle of pills. They’re in an unmarked container, sixty of them, enough that Jensen will grow frustrated and move on.

There won’t be a child, not like this; never like this. Jared controls his life, he may not control the circumstances, but he will never let someone assert their will over his body in that way again. Jensen can make him his whore because it’s his due, but he won’t go through that kind of pain again.

Jared drags a chair over to the bottom of the air vent. He unscrews the metal grill and sets the pills on securely. Once the grate is closed, they’re invisible to prying eyes.

-

“Take off your clothes.”

The words land like ice water.

Since Jared’s arrival two weeks prior, he’s been mostly left alone. He hasn’t seen Jensen. Jared had spent that first night wide awake, heart in his throat as he waited. Jensen never showed. Matt is the one constant, face filled with unconcealed hate as he herds Jared through the penthouse.

Naively, Jared allowed himself to fantasize about fixing things. He’d imagined being able to explain to Jensen, being able to make him understand that he’d had no choice but to lie to him in order to save his life. And Jensen would understand; he’d take back all the nasty words and stop trying to hurt him—

Jared had allowed himself to grow comfortable which is likely exactly what Jensen wanted because he’s suddenly back.

Jensen returned this evening, overwhelmingly striking in black evening wear. Except he wasn’t alone, he’d brought a beautiful girl with him. Kristin. She was petite, draped in fur and laughed all throughout dinner, either ignorant or indifferent of his presence entirely. They’re obviously intimate, her hand on Jensen’s thigh and lips on his cheek. Jared forced himself to eat every bite that was put in front of him. He wouldn’t give the asshole the satisfaction although he understands why Jensen is doing what he is.

What Jared can’t understand is why Jensen isn’t with Kristin now.

Why is he doing this now?

“Take off your clothes.”

It’s too much like before.

Numb, Jared thinks of Colleen and the children and women like her, dependent on the men who are employed by his father. They need him to be strong. He _is_ stronger than this.

In a way this is fitting punishment for what he did all those years ago. He deserves to be used; to go from beloved to whore. And he’s well aware that’s what he is now.

Another body for Jensen to slack his lust on: a meaningless fuck.

“I won’t ask you again, Jared.”

The words break the temporary paralysis that has fallen over him. Fumbling, Jared attempts to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, but he’s all thumbs. He can’t function with the heavy weight of Jensen’s eyes on him. The older man is seated on the dark black leather arm chair, eyes predatory. He’s loosened his red silk tie, legs widespread in front of him as he waits.

Jensen is entirely different from the person he once held. He’s hardened into something cruel, his beautiful features darkened by a perpetual scowl. He’s had to change to survive, after what Jared had put him through. That’s what cuts deepest.

Frustrated at the prick of tears that threaten to spill, Jared yanks harder than necessary ripping the buttons from their holes and sending them falling to the ground. The cool air traces his naked skin, causing his nipples to harden.

When he dares a glance at Jensen he can see the other man’s eyes locked on them.

“Your pants.”

It’s getting easier. He unclasps his leather belt and steps out of the dress slacks, kicking them off in front of him. He only hesitates slightly at his boxers before sending them to the floor as well.

Jared stands there, naked and trembling and still Jensen doesn’t move. He lights another cigarette blowing out clouds of smoke. Long minutes tick by as Jensen picks Jared apart with his eyes, sending a flush over his body as shame sets in. He feels like an object, systematically debased and found lacking in value by the time Jensen’s green eyes track back to his face.

“Come here.” Jensen demands softly, patting his knee like you would when you call a dog.

Jared bristles, unmoving before he realizes that he no longer has the right to be offended, that he’s signed his life away to a man who loathes him. He walks over.

When he’s within arms distance, Jensen takes him by the wrist and pushes him to the floor.

The action leaves Jared’s kneeling between Jensen’s knees, heart pounding as something akin to horror and arousal courses through his body. He closes his eyes, shuddering.

Cold leather is fastened around his neck.

Jared’s hand reaches up to touch reflexively and bile rises….. a collar.

“You’re mine.” Jensen tells him, looping a silver chain through the half -moon clasp. Humiliation slams through Jared when Jensen secures the other end to his bed post. “I own you in every sense of the word. You exist solely for my use, for my pleasure. Don‘t ever forget that.”

Jared bites his tongue on his anger, raising his eyes to Jensen’s. He wants nothing more than to rip the fucking degrading collar off and strangle Jensen with it.

“What’s the matter, puppy?” Jensen mocks softly. “Angry?”

Jared forces himself to remain silent.

“Perhaps I should treat you to the same hospitality your father showed me.” Jensen leans down, breath caressing Jared’s cheek. “Would you be more comfortable with your bones out of their sockets? Should I have you whipped with a metal wire and pour salt on your back?”

The words leave him speechless. Jared had known but… he hadn’t known. His heart leaps into his throat, taking away all words of censure. Yet he’s suffered as well. He’s still suffering and Jensen won’t open his eyes to see it.l

“Don’t worry, puppy.” Jensen mistakes his silence for fear. It’s not. “I need you healthy to bear a child.”

Despite those words, Jensen leaves him alone in the room once more.

-

“Is it everything you fantasized about?”

“It’s fine.”

Jensen looks down at his whiskey, refuses to look at J.D. The guy knows him too well and always sees too much. He‘d been nothing but a small time loan shark before Jensen got his hands on him and now he thinks he’s fucking Yoda.

“He’s quiet.”

This time Jensen doesn’t answer.

“I don’t know how you do it.” Matt grimaces. He tosses off his leather jacket and J.D. catches it before it hits the ground. “Every time I see him, I want to rearrange his face. Kid is still walking around the place like he’s the Prince and we’re all beneath him.”

Jensen knows Matt hates Jared as much as he does but it still sets him on edge. Since Jared has come back into his life, Jensen feels like he’s suffocating. He doesn’t sit easy in his own skin anymore and the stress is showing.

Carmine attacking his runners isn’t doing much to ease his black mood.

“I manage.”

Matt continues on, settling under J.D.’s arm. “I still think you should kill him; he left you for dead.”

Jensen looks at him with a warning in his eyes. “I have my own plans.”

“Padalecki will never honor the agreement, he won't have your baby,.”

J.D. looks from Matt, then back to Jensen. “Jared agreed to give you a child?”

“He didn’t exactly have a choice.” Matt interrupts. “Back was against the wall, which is why I think he’s rolling over and playing dead until he bites us. I don‘t trust him, Jen, and my instincts are dead on, you know that.”

“He’ll keep his end of the bargain.” Jensen’s thought of that himself. A double cross wouldn’t be unexpected and if he were to bring a child into it and have the same shit happen… Jensen would lose his mind. He’s sure of it. He doesn’t trust Jared either but he can’t let him go. “I’ll make sure.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

He’s had enough.

Jensen’s reaches into the inside pocket of his suit, takes out a pack of cigarettes and heads for the door.

Expectedly, J.D. follows.

“I want to be alone.”

There’s violence brewing inside of him; he wants to hurt someone, anyone, to stop whatever is fucking him up inside. The fact that he’ stayed away for two weeks. The fact that he can’t bring himself to touch Jared because he’s afraid of what he’ll do once he has that unblemished flesh beneath him.

J.D. lights Jensen’s cig and takes one for himself.

They go through three each before J.D. begins to talk.

“I don’t like it.” He begins slowly. “There’s getting even, and then there’s this. It doesn’t sit right.”

“You weren’t there.”

“I didn’t have to be.”

The wind has picked up, chill cutting through the fabric of his jacket. Jensen watches his men standing by the tinted Escalade. “You’re on thin ice.”

The older man chuckles. “Wouldn’t be the first time you slugged me.”

“So you’ve come to freeze your balls off to get knocked out?”

“I doubt you could lay me out.” A smile plays at J.D.’s lips, before he drops his eyes to the street, kicks aside dried newspaper that blows. “I seem to recall saving your ass once upon a time, and you said, I quote---”

“You’re the kind of guy I need in a tight situation.”

“Look around you, Jensen.” Parked at the other end of the block are two black pintos, an unfamiliar man stands at a payphone that hasn’t been used as anything else but a drop for going on two years. Jensen knows without askin’ that they’re Carmine’s men. “This is a tight situation.”

“Whatever you got to say, come out and say it.”

“This is bad news. You want to make him pay, I get that, respect it, but you can’t linger on this bullshit. The longer you’re consumed by this, the longer you’re distracted. You can’t afford that. None of us can.”

Jensen tosses the stub of his cigarette to the ground, follows the burning red glow until it fades into nothing. “If I had said the same shit you just did to me to Carmine, he would’ve slit my throat.”

“You’re not Carmine.” J.D. replies evenly. “You’re smarter than he is. But these past couple of weeks…I can’t figure out where your head is at.”

“You have any children, J.D.?”

“You know I don’t.”

“And Mattie, you love him?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Answer me.”

“Yeah.” J.D. nods. “Which is why--”

“Imagine that everything Matt’s told you, said to you, is a lie. Imagine being handed over to a psychopath.” The red haze eliminates Jensen’s vision, all he can see is how he was then: freezing and huddled on the dirt packed floor, breathing through a broken nose and ribs. “Imagine having your child aborted like it was nothing but a fucking nuisance. Imagine watching Matt marry the man who tortured you--”

“Jensen! Jen--” J.D. is gasping, face nearly purple as he tries and fails to pry Jensen‘s hands off of him.

Jensen looks down at his hands, wondering when they’d wrapped around his friend’s neck. For a second, he squeezes harder, watches the moisture well up in J.D.’s eyes and his mouth bleed white. It would be so easy to kill him. It would feel so good.

J.D.’s nails scratch his forearms, starts to go limp….

Jensen drops his hands down to his side; he can feel a tremor running through the left.

“I’m doing this.” Jensen talks down to him, no longer a friend but the Boss. “You can get behind me or get out of my way.”

The back door opens and Matt steps out into the alley. He stops short, smile evaporating when he sees J.D. doubled over. “Everything okay?”

Jensen doesn’t reply but J.D. does, placing a hand at the back of Matt’s neck while assuring him that everything is fine. They’re the most important people in the world to him.

“Jensen?”

“I’m going to the gym.” Jensen can feel himself shaking; the tremors never disappear. “Have the car brought around.”

-

It’s unsettling, not knowing his place in Jensen’s world but Jared’s trying to hold on to a semblance of normality. The apartment building is filled with men loyal to only Jensen. For the most part, Jared is left alone in Jensen’s bedroom. He can’t run even if he wanted to. All of his clothing has been taken away, the few suitcases he arrived with locked in the hall closet opposite. He’ll go insane if he gives in to the mundaneness. So he keeps busy, he takes his pills and spends his time keeping up with the accounting when Chad emails him the ledgers.

Still, it’s been close to a month and Jensen has done nothing beyond watch him.

The door opens and Jensen comes into the bedroom, stripping off his dark blue jacket and tie. Unlike his father, Jensen’s business encompasses several legitimate contracting companies. It must be difficult standing in both worlds.

Jared tosses aside the book he‘s been trying to read. “Am I supposed to just sit here all day?”

Jensen walks past him, shoulder hitting Jared as he does. “You’re supposed to do whatever I want you to do.”

“I have a job.” Jared ventures timidly. “I work at the clinic downtown. There are people  relying--”

“You mean you _had_ a job.”

They‘re understaffed as it is. “I can still…do whatever it is you need me to do. I don’t need to be at your beck and call when you’re not even here!”

Jensen is across the room in him in a flash, they fall down unto the bed.

The wind is knocked out of Jared but before he can try and catch his breath, Jensen’s forearm presses down against his throat.

Jared can’t breathe.

  
When Jared makes aborted choking noises, Jensen bears down. “You’ve forgotten who’s in charge here. I say when and where. Not you.”

Fear leaves him stiff, and Jared can’t speak. All he can see is Jensen above him, eyes wild and unnaturally bright. He’s unraveling.

Jared hits Jensen, striking his back and arms in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his windpipe but the older man is immovable. “I can’t…”

“Remember that. You don’t breathe without my say.” Jensen snarls. Finally, he sits back and Jared takes deep, greedy inhales of air. “You’re wholly under my control.”

“I never denied I was.”

Jensen’s eyes stare into his and Jared shivers at what he sees. “Tell me, Jared. How did you like fucking Sal?”

Jared’s entire body goes rigid and his stomach rebels at the memories the words wrench out of him.

He wants to forget, always forget.

“Get off of me.”

“Bet he was real wild, probably took you like a dog on your hands and knees-- but you really liked that position, didn’t you?”

“Don’t.”

“That was the one truth to you: sex. Can’t fake the way you twisted under me, begged for me. You do that with Sal? You beg for him to fuck you, little slut--”

Unthinking, Jared’s hand strikes out, landing with a sharp slap on Jensen’s cheek. His palm is stinging fiercely and Jensen's cheek is blooming an explosive red. 

The thin mask of civility disintegrates completely and Jared feels drugging terror flood through him. He’s never seen the wild expression in Jensen’s eyes, sucks in a desperate breath when Jensen hauls him up and forward by the hair.

“Stop it--”

“You still don’t fucking get it.” Jensen throws him back down on the bedspread, crouching low over him. He‘s breathing heavily, eyes jade fire. Jared is completely at his mercy, bracketed in. “But by the time I’m through with you, you will. I promise you.”

Jared closes his eyes, bracing but nothing happens. The bed creaks as Jensen gets up.

He opens his eyes in time to see Jensen slam his fist through the mirror hanging outside the en suite bathroom door. Glass splinters and shards are sent crashing to the polished floor. Blood splatters, staining the wood but Jensen doesn’t show any reaction to the pain. He walks out the door.

Stunned, Jared lays on his side, watches the mess until it’s a blur of tears.

-


	6. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dear Readers!
> 
> WARNING DUBCON, WARNING SEXUAL COERCION--> please do not read and trigger yourself!
> 
> Okay, got it? good. On to my ramblings.
> 
> Oh boy, i made it! I was so certain that i wouldn't be able to post tonight that i started crafting my long ass apology Authors note lmao.
> 
> But here i am, two hours of re-writing and reading this over and i am pleased with this chapter. I can't wait to hear what you all think.
> 
> I have to say one of the best parts of writing is getting on here and interacting with you all :) It's what keeps me going. So tomorrow i will answer all i have missed but i;m just exhausted right now.
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> xC

I broke apart my insides  
(Help me)  
I've got no soul to sell  
(Help me)  
The only thing that works for me  
Help me get away from myself

Closer | Nine Inch Nails

Jared learned long ago that there is no value in tears; that you can pray and plead to an invisible being in the sky until you go blue in the face and still receive no answer.

It still doesn’t stop his weakness from showing.

He’s always felt too much.

In the dark, Jared sits at the foot of Jensen’s bed, ass on the floor and polished wood at his back, as far away as the rope allows him to be from Jensen.

And the person he’s with.

After his abrupt exit, Jensen returned hours later, but he not alone. Kristin was clinging to him, her eyes skipping over Jared’s in dismissal. It was obvious what the pair were about to get up to. When Jared tried to leave Jensen ordered him to remain. She laughed at him, said something in Jensen’s ear that made him snigger before he produced the silver chain and bound it through the damned collar.

They’ve been fucking for what seems like hours but in reality are minutes.

Jared can hear them writhing on the sheets, hear _her_. She’s not holding back. He’s bombarded with images of how they must look entwined together. He remembers when Jensen looked him in the eyes and swore to never hurt him.

For someone who claimed to love him so much, Jensen believed the worst so easily.

Years ago, in the beginning when he was still afraid and tense within the Cortese home, Jared would reach for their memories to calm his racing heart. He’d been so lost and frightened; it would have killed him to accept what he does now: Jensen never really loved him, not the way he should have.

Love isn’t easy to sever, yet their love had been crushed with a handful of words. Jensen believed him capable of the worst betrayal.

Sobs claws at Jared’s throat, and his eyes burn; Salvatore would  say he was soft. The bastard was right about one thing. Jared wishes he could be like Jensen that he could grab unto his hurt and turn it into anger so that nothing can reach him.

But Jared can’t.

That’s always been his problem, especially when it comes to Jensen; always when it’s him.

From the moment they met, Jared had been lost.

Jensen smiled at him and his world had been blown wide open. Everything in his life was planned; his title, position and husband. It had been his duty to his family above all else. He changed all that. With Jensen, he’d been able to be just Jared, a sometimes shy, soft spoken and goofy high school senior.

And Jensen listened to his thoughts and ideas like they were worth something; like his dreams weren’t idiotic and impossible.

Jared had known the risk and he’d tossed all his doubts aside because he’d wanted to grab happiness. That selfishness had nearly cost Jensen his life, forged him into someone twisted and unreachable.

Kristin is screaming Jensen’s name, begging for more and calling him god. Jensen gets off on it. He must have a complex.

Whatever pain Jared’s feeling, no matter how deep, he decides to embrace it. Pain brings resentment, and Jared vows to let the blossoming bitterness grow until it sustains him.

-

It’s been raining all morning. Jensen stares out his window panes, ignoring the contracts for his business expansion. He’s been sitting at his desk for the better part of three hours but nothing has gotten done. He can’t fucking focus. He feels like his head is full of dynamite.

Full of Dynamite.

Patrick used to say that bullshit when he was on a bender and feeling mean. It never meant anything else except that he’d kick the shit out of Jensen and maybe Ma too is she tried to step in. It unsettles him, the fact that he went down to the ring and broke some rookie’s jaw in what was supposed to be a friendly spar.

He’s more like Patrick then he can admit.

There’s a euphoria that comes with dominance, and every day Jensen wakes he needs to reassert his. He chases that high of being the winner. There can always be only one winner.

Jensen presses Katie’s number on the intercom and asks her to bring in more coffee. He hadn’t gotten much sleep.

Last night wasn’t about sex or getting off; it was proving to Jared that he was impenetrable; that Jensen had been broken and reborn stronger. He didn’t need Jared’s love or anyone else’s. He belonged to no one.

_“Last night I‘m here, you must be psyched to get back to your own bed.”_

_Jared’s voice sounds funny, strained and Jensen looks over to find him chewing on his bottom lip, teddy bear twisting in his hands._

_Jensen tugs the end of Jared’s hair, trying to get him to lighten up. “I’m going to miss having someone pair my socks for me.”_

_“Sorry, habit.” Jared blushes. “My roommate at school says I’m OCD or something.”_

_“Don’t be sorry, I like it.”_

_Jared smiles at him shyly, moving close when Jensen puts his arm around him. “I’ll miss your snoring though.”_

_“I was going to say the same to you.” Jensen sits down on the bed and pulls Jared next to him, taking the teddy bear from his hands. He waves the plush in front of Jared’s face. “Felix is going to have to keep you company.”_

_Jared grins, bumping his shoulder against Jensen‘s. “At least his morning breath won’t choke me.”_

_“Hey!”_

_“Just kidding.” Jared kisses him, lingering._

_He’s always been so shy; it tugs at something deep inside of Jensen. Jared’s been raised in the belly of the underworld but still manages to possess a naiveté that Jensen wants for himself._

_“You better not forget you have a boyfriend while I‘m gone.”_

_“Boyfriend?”_

_“I know you don’t do…uhm.“ There’s nothing more appealing than an insecure Jared. “Well, I thought, even if no one can know--”_

_“You’re mine.” Jensen puts him out of his misery. “And I’m yours; it’s a reciprocal thing, ain’t it?”_

_“Definitely.” Jared’s dimples peek out and he looks happy again. Jensen knows he’s said the right thing. “And when I graduate, I’m going to find a way to make Dad understand about us; I swear.”_

_“Don’t rush on my account.”_

_“He’ll accept it, eventually.” Jared doesn’t even sound convinced himself but he takes Jensen’s hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. “He wants me to be happy and you make me happy. Always.”_

_Always._

_Thoughts about forever are dangerous, he knows that, but Jensen wants to hold on to this feeling for a little longer before he’s got to face his demons._

_In lieu of a response, Jensen kisses him. Jared responds immediately holding him closer like he can feel the storm inside of him. Jensen pushes Jared down on the bed, coming to rest on top of him. Jared lets his legs fall apart automatically, allowing him to come between._

_A pang of longing hits him. Jensen is going to miss this._

_The way Jared fits against him perfectly._

_The way his eyes darken and cheeks flush when Jensen holds his stare._

_There’s something sacred in that doe eyed look. Every time Jared looks at him, Jared feels inspired; like he can be the person he pretends to be._

_“I love you.”_

_Those words have never been as powerful. They shake Jensen to the core. He’s heard them before, in apology from Patrick when he saw the bruises the next morning, from Matt in those early days when he still had nightmare and Jensen held him till morning._

_Jensen brushes his lips over the smooth skin of Jared‘s jaw, inhales the sharp, clean scent of his aftershave and tries to memorize it for the lonely weeks to come._

_“Everyone’s a little bit in love with me.” Jared snickers and Jensen kisses away his laugh. “I love you, too.”_

_“I belong to you.” Jared tells him solemnly, his palm against Jensen’s cheek. “And you belong to me.”_

The door to his office flies open, creaking on the hinges and handle flying into the wall hard enough to leave a mark.

Jensen’s head snaps up and the vivid memories draw back into a corner of his mind he rarely visits.

One look at Matthew’s murderous face and Jensen is bored.

“Wanna explain why J.D. has bruises the shape of your fucking fingers around his neck?”

“Jeff doesn‘t need you to fight his battles.”

Matt slams the door closed behind him. “Why the hell are you fighting with him to start with?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Tough shit; I am.”

“We had a disagreement.” Jensen relents, reaching into the desk drawer for his cigar case. He cuts one for himself and another for Matt. “But we’ve settled our differences.”

“You choked him.”

“So?”

Jensen looks at him blankly. He could kill J.D. if he wanted to; kill every motherfucker in this building on a whim, and no one could stop him. Not a single person would dare protest.

“What could he have possibly said…” Understanding dawns and Matt’s scowl deepens. He grabs the cigar and lights up heatedly. “This is about Jared.”

“It’s not.”

“Bullshit.”

“Watch your tone.”

“That won’t work on me. You wanna hurt me, go ahead, we both know I can take it, but I’m telling it to you straight: you need to fuck your anger out so we can focus.”

“You think getting laid solves everything.”

“It does.” Matt rolls his eyes and the tension breaks. “You just need to fuck Jared and not Kristin.”

“I like her.”

“You barely tolerate her unless she’s flat on her back.” Mat points out. “But there she was strolling into your bedroom and staying all night. My guess is you wanted to piss off the _Prince_.”

“Who cares if Jared is pissed?” And Jared is beyond that, Jensen had watched his pale, irate face over coffee this morning. It thrilled him. “It won’t change anything.”

“Jared is here for a reason, don’t lose sight of that.”

“I’m focused.”

“Good; you’ll get your son or daughter.” Matt bumps their shoulders together. “And you’ll be you again.”

They’re Jensen’s own words, ones he’s spoken often when he’d been on the come up and in the middle of days so dark the sun wasn’t in sight. Jensen is starting not to believe them.

-

“I’m fine, Chad.”

“Then why aren’t you coming in? Gen’s been by asking for you and some of the regulars have been too; I’m running out of excuses, man.”

“Tell them I’m…. I don’t know… in Aruba with a boyfriend or something.”

“You? With a boyfriend? That will never work!” Chad protests and Jared can imagine him flailing. “They all know you’re a monk!”

There isn‘t a chance in hell that Jared will tell Chad or anyone the truth. Even if word does trickle down to civilians, he‘ll keep up the ruse. His friends won’t understand why he’s doing this, and Jared doesn’t want to explain himself to anyone.

“I need time off.”

“I get it, Jay.” Chad sighs the way he does when he doesn’t get it. “When do you think you’ll be back?”

Jared looks around the bedroom, eyes falling and staying on the vacant strip of wall where the mirror Jensen destroyed once was. “I’ll check back in a couple of weeks.”

There’s an uneasy silence.

“You’re not in trouble, right?”

“You do know who my father is, don’t you?” It’s not an answer but Jared can hear footsteps. He needs to end the call. “I’m fine, I gotta go.”

“Bye, call me—“

Jared hangs up the cell phone and flips it to silent. There’s no time to hide so he slips it into his back jean pocket just as the door opens. Harley and Sadie run in, followed by who Jared now knows is J.D.

“They should be just about worn out.” J.D. remarks amicably. “They’ve got a hell of a lot of energy.”

Jared’s unsure of what to say in response; it’s been a month and the other man hasn’t tried to speak to him once. Jared had just assumed he hated him like every other entitled stranger in this fucking place.

“Thanks for exercising them.”

J.D. shrugs. “Well, someone’s got to; boss doesn’t want you on the roof.”

Jared scoffs. “I won’t jump if that’s what he thinks.”

“A Padalecki off himself?” J.D. tosses the dogs leads onto the coffee table. “Never.”

J.D. heads for the door and Jared watches him go, feeling a longing for conversation, any interaction.

“Does Jensen have a gym or something? I’m going stir crazy sitting in here day in and out.”

“Second floor.” J.D. answers after a moment, pulling Sadie back from the door. She’s clearly not a fan of the confined space either. “I’ll bring you there now if you want.”

Jared should take the tiny grab at freedom but he doesn’t want the other man to get in trouble. “You should ask Jensen if it’s alright first.”

J.D. gives him a measured look of surprise. “It’s alright, follow me.”

-

Jared wakes instantly when fabric hits his face.

“Get up.” Jensen is standing over him in a dark grey suit, hair styled and mouth set in an angry line. “Get dressed.”

Bleary, Jared rubs his eyes. The bedside clock reads one a.m.

“Wear what I’ve set out for you, none of those disgusting clothes you brought with you.” Jensen commands. “And do something with your fucking hair.”

“What the fuck are you even saying? It’s the middle of the night!”

“I don’t owe you any answers.” Jensen snaps his cufflinks on, gaze sharp. “I say when and where, puppy, remember that.”

“I’m sure Kristin would be happy to accompany you. Or did your performance last night leave her as unimpressed as it left me?”

Jensen halts mid step, every line in his back stiff. “Get dressed, Jared.”

-

“Come here.”

Jared looks at Jensen in surprise when the older man speaks to him.

Jensen has supposedly been conducting a business meeting in the seedy nightclub but Jared hasn’t actually seen the men do anything but drink, smoke and snort. He’s been standing against the wall for nearly an hour, confused as to why his presence was required.

“I’m feeling tense.” Jensen says, eyes never wavering from his. The two men seated across from him laugh when he beckons Jared forward, whiskey sloshing out of the glass. “Come relax me, baby.”

Jared’s mouth is suddenly bone dry.

It’s been weeks since they began their arrangement and in all that time, Jensen hadn’t laid a finger on him. Unease makes him look at the door, but he knows that there’s a burly man outside, guarding entry, and even if he could escape, it’s not as if he can run.

Neither of the men makes a move to leave.

The balding one watches Jared close the distance to Jensen with beady, lascivious eyes.

“On your knees.”

His eyes go instantly to the vee of Jensen’s dress pants, to the fine silk pulled tight over the bulge of his crotch. It’s titillating and humiliating all at once.

Everything in Jared is rebelling, insisting he refuse and kill the man who’s trying to make him into a bitch. He’s not unarmed tonight; he’d strapped the switchblade to his thigh. One nick to the femoral artery and Jensen would bleed out all over his fancy rug in minutes.

“I’m waiting.”

Coming to his knees, Jared’s eyes flicker up to Jensen’s, asking without words that he give him a measure of privacy.

The silent plea goes unanswered as Jensen merely uses one hand to lower his zip, the other moving to the back of his head. _Shit_. His thoughts scatter into oblivion, impossible to grasp as he finds himself suspended between the past and horrifying reality. Blindly, Jared hooks his fingers under the elastic of Jensen’s black silk boxers before he pulls the material down under this balls.

  
Jensen’s half hard already, huge cock rising out of a nest of neatly trimmed blond hair, thick and curving slightly to the left. He’s had this so many times before but never like this.

When Jensen’s fingers tighten in his hair to the point of pain, Jared lowers his head and opens his mouth, taking the fat tip against his tongue.

One of the men in the room give a breathy laugh.

Whore.

It’s implied in everything Jensen has done; it has been punctuated through action and behavior. Jensen is trying to tear him down to nothing. He won’t let him win.

Jared closes his eyes, trying to forget that they’re in a room full of people who are, witnessing a Padalecki service like a common hooker. Fuck Jensen. Fuck him for all of this. He tries to block out memories that are so different from his current reality. He remembers waking up with Jensen pressed against him, recalls moving down on his knees to lovingly suck Jensen to hardness. Jared stops himself. He won’t have them ruined; they’re all he has left.

Above him Jensen’s voice is steady and unaffected. “Tell me about your supplier.”

There’s a slight pause, but then the man begins to speak. Jensen never misses a beat, asks questions and answers any that are directed to him even as Jared can feel him growing harder and thicker against his tongue.

Jensen’s fingers grip his hair harder, nails scratching against his scalp in a not altogether unpleasant way. Before Jared can rein it in, he moans around the cock in his mouth and the sound sends a wave of shame and nausea slamming through him. He’s getting pleasure from this and he has no control over his body, can’t stop himself from reacting.

Jensen snickers over his head, says something to his acquaintances that make them laugh and Jared feels anger through his shame.

Wanting to get his, he inhales before taking Jensen all the way down, not stopping until the head of his cock hits the back of his throat.

“The alphabet boys got eyes on the fifth quadrant but Lewis has a guy in the 3rd Precinct who--”

“ _Fuck_.” Jensen moans, cutting off whatever the man is going to say. Jared can’t help it, he smirks. That earns him another pull forward, and Jared can‘t breathe as Jensen holds him down. “Damn you.”

Jensen’s hips cant forward, lift from the seat and he’s fucking Jared’s mouth now in short, smooth strokes, forcing him to take inch after wet inch as tears course down his cheeks.

In his slacks, Jared’s nearly hard, cock pushing against his inseam demandingly as his mouth is filled with the bitter, pungent taste that is purely Jensen. He lets his mouth go slack, inhaling through his nose as he gives himself over to him.

When Jensen hits the back of his throat again, Jared gags. Jensen groans even louder, eyes closing for a moment in the dim light.

Jared pulls off, trying to catch his breath in huge gulps.

“Get out.” Jensen growls to the men, and Jared hears the hasty retreat, the burst of loud music when the door is opened and closes on their exit. He tugs Jared back by his hair. “Look at me, eyes open. I want you to know who owns you, who you’re with.”

Jared blocks out the words, looks up at Jensen and tells himself that this is not what it is. That the fire in Jensen’s eyes is passion and not hate, that he’s more than another hole for him to stick his dick into. That this is years ago, and this is His Jensen.

On memory, Jared brings his hands up to Jensen’s muscled thighs. He runs them up to caress his swollen balls; tug and roll them in his hands roughly as his teeth gently scrape over the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. He brings back every trick he can remember to make Jensen lose control.

The cracks are showing, his eyes are unfocused, his mouth parted on labored breaths. There’s no warning, and Jensen holds him in place as he comes down his throat.

As soon as Jensen goes limp, Jared pulls off, spitting his come out onto the floor. He wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand, ignoring his raging hard on.

Jensen follows his movements. “Next time swallow.”

“I’d rather not have whatever diseases you’re carrying.” Jared gets to his feet and grabs a glass. He pours himself a  whiskey to wash away the lingering taste. “Next time you wear a condom.”

“I’m not wearing any fucking rubber, and you’re going to swallow.”

“That’s great.” Jared sips his liquor. The orgasmic flush makes Jensen look so much younger, like a person. “I look forward to giving birth to your syphilis ridden spawn.”

Jensen’s eyes narrow and Jared knows he’s toeing the line.

He doesn’t care.

Jensen’s knuckles are showing white at the bone; he’s gripping his glass that hard. Jared waits for him to explode, he still has the bruises from earlier; let’s add some more.

“I’m clean.” Jensen says instead of wrapping his hands around his throat. “I never fuck without a condom.”

Jared grits his teeth. “Lucky me.”

Jensen walks by him and opens the door to speak to the security guard. “Take Jared back to the penthouse and send Chase up to VIP.”

-

Jared’s seated in the back of the town car, watching the blur of the city through the window. He touches his lips, tries to forget what Jensen felt and tasted like.

“Ben?”

The man looks at him through the rearview. “Problem?”

“Who’s Chase?”

Ben frowns and Jared’s stomach tightens. “Why?”

“Who is he?”

“The boss’ boyfriend.”

-  
Not even a full two days later and Carmine is in Jensen’s club, wading through the mass of bodies with his men clearing the way.

When Jensen’s bodyguard moves to block entrance, he shakes his head. He wants to hear what the man has to say, it’ll be nice to make him admit it.

“Leave us.” Jensen says, and everyone leaves the lounge. Carmine’s men included.

They’re left alone.

Hiding a smile, Jensen deliberately gives the man his back as he turns to the mini bar. He’s holding all the cards here—fuck that, he’s got the entire deck--- they both know that.

“Can I offer you a drink?”

“You’ve made my son into your whore!? I should shoot you where you stand.”

Of course Jensen had known that Levitz would report back what he saw to his master. What a good little dog he is. It‘s the reason why he‘d relished having Jared suck him off as he watched. He‘s certain  Levitz didn‘t spare any details.

Jensen smiles as he pours himself a drink. “I haven’t made him do anything he hasn’t done before.”

“This isn’t what we agreed.”

“We didn’t agree on anything. Jared came to me of his own free will. He’s _well_ _satisfied_ with the bargain we struck.”

“You are the lowest kind of man; one without honor. No man would use --”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Jensen feigns a yawn. “I’m growing weary of these chats of ours Carmine. Please leave.”

The other man explodes without moving a muscle. There is no other word for it. Jensen can almost physically see every seam come apart, all self-control is lost.

Full of dynamite.

“We'll do it your way, Ackles.” Carmine’s expression speaks of death and agony to come. “I’m done talking.”


	7. Light Years Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya!
> 
> Additional warning: DUB CON, FULL ON DUB CON SEX, and murder. Please run if that makes you feel horrible inside.
> 
> POSTED AT 11:44 PM WHOOOOOP! I kept my deadline.
> 
> lol i was so determined to get this posted for all you awesome people---idk how i'm going to function tomorrow -__- I plN on replying to all your wonderful comments this weekend as soon as school and work release me from itheir clutches.
> 
> I edited this some this morning (4/17/15) because the last line was supposed to be Jensen saying I don't believe you.
> 
> Lastly, thank you to the awesome folks who helped get my work taken down from ebooks-tree!!
> 
> this chapter's for you!
> 
> xC

It's almost like you had it planned  
It's like you smiled and shook my hand and said  
"Hey, I'm about to screw you over, big time"  
And what was I supposed to do?  
I was stuck in between you and a hard place  
We won't talk about the hard place

But I don't blame you anymore  
That's too much pain to store  
It left me half dead  
Inside my head

Light Years Away | Mozzella

-

No matter what he did, who he did, Jensen could forget.

In the years since he last saw Jared, he’d gone through every moment they shared; relived each moment. Sometimes to see how he could miss the deceit, other times to carry him through. The first stint he did in prison had been difficult; he’d been young and untried, without the protection of the Family; fair game. He had to fight every day just to walk down the halls.

With four blocks of cement blocking out light, Jared had been his sun; something to focus on and force him not to take the easy way out. He’d let his hate bolster his perseverance and by the time he was released five months later, Jensen walked out with new contacts and a plan to take Donnie’s head.

Before tonight, being with Jared had been a memory, something Jensen was certain he embellished but having Jared like that is as incredible as he recalled. There’s nothing sweeter than seeing the Prince on his knees, serving him in every way. Everything about it turned him on, the sweep of Jared’s lashes, the color of his mouth and the hollow of his cheeks as he sucked—

“Jensen!”

The door flings open and Chace is standing there, in all his brash glory. He’s done up in tonight’s costume, silver spandex boy shorts and angels wings. Chace is pretty no two ways about it, Jensen always though he could be on the cover of magazines--he should arouse him, but he doesn’t.

Chace is also… he’s complicated. For one; he’s not a whore. He’s the disinherited son of old money. The Crawford’s are legitimate, respectable WASPS who would die of shame if their son’s whereabouts where made known. Chace has been content to be a pampered toy as well as an occasional dancer at the club; as long as Jensen takes him to societal events. The brat has a temper and a sense of entitlement a mile long. Jensen keeps feeding it by fucking him on the regular.

Before, Chace had at least been a good distraction, now it seems he won’t even be that.

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me.” Chace’s lips are pursed in a pout and Jensen keeps picturing Jared’s pursed around his dick. The thought leave shim half hard in his slacks. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. What have you been up to?”

“You know I can’t discuss business.”

“Then you did forget about me,”

“Never.” Jensen takes Chace’s hand and draws him over his lap. He turns instantly, straddling his thighs. “Gorgeous.”

Chace grinds down, playing coy and moving away when Jensen kisses his neck. “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

“Only you, sweetheart.” Jensen placates. “ _Always_ you.”

“Hm… I guess you didn’t completely forget about me. I did love the watch you sent me; all my friends were so fucking jealous!” Chace waves his wrist between them and diamond encrusted watch catches the light, sparkling. Jensen makes a mental note to thank Matt or whoever thought to send him the trinket because he sure as hell didn’t. “Although, my other wrist feels lonely.”

The pout is back and Jensen tamps down on the twinge of annoyance. He never cared about spoiling Chace before, nothing will change now. The money is inconsequential anyway.

“What do you want?”

With a calculated gleam in his eyes, Chace kisses the corner of Jensen’s mouth as his hand finds its way to the front of his pants. “I guess another watch would be nice but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t want that.”

“Then tell me what you do want and don’t bring in that marriage bullshit.”

“Anything?”

“Anything within reason.”

“Take me home with you.”

Jensen considers this. Chace has never been inside of his penthouse. Kristin barely has and she’s been a plaything for years. With Kristin, it’s fun. With Chace, he wants more. It’s palpable in everything he does.

There’s a reason why Jensen keeps the boy at arm’s length.

But Jared’s at the penthouse, walking around with a cloak of victim that he doesn’t deserve. Suddenly, Jensen is in the mood to indulge him. It doesn’t matter if it’s childish, it’s his right.

“Absolutely.”

-

Still sweating from his morning run on the treadmill, Jared walks into the spotless kitchen and grabs a glass of grapefruit juice. He drinks the juice while leaning against the counter, watching Harley and Sadie slosh water around their bowls. Exercising has been good for clearing his mind; he can’t seem to make sense of anything these days.

Jensen hadn’t come back to the room last night; Jared had spent most of the night awake, heart in his throat, expecting to get fucked after the display in the club.

But Jensen never came.

Suddenly, Harley’s ears prick up and he takes off down the hall, growling.

“Harley, stop.” If his dog doesn’t realize that this isn’t Jared’s house soon, Jensen’s goons are going to get fed up and shoot him. “Harley!”

A man yelps. “Get your mutt off of me!”

Jared sighs, expecting to see one of Jensen’s men shaking off his dog but instead he’s greeted by the sight of some pretty boy wearing a black silk robe and nothing else, cock hanging out for the world to see.

“Who the fuck are you?” The naked man demands. “Is this your stupid dog?

Harley turns his head and catches sight of Jared, it only make the dog tug harder on the silk.

Jared’s stomach tightens as he takes in the hickeys on his chest, finger mussed hair and swollen mouth.

Jensen is a fucking bastard.

“Are you a fucking mute, Sasquatch? I said call off your flea infested dog!”

This must be Chace.

A bolt of hatred strikes Jared and he wants nothing more than to storm over, rip the slut’s tiny dick off and shove it down his throat.

“Harley.” Jared works hard to keep his voice level and devoid of emotion. There’s no reason for him to be feeling any possession or jealousy for a monster. He needs to remember that. Jensen doesn’t belong to him, not anymore; and Jared doesn’t want him. “Come here.”

The dog obeys immediately, releasing the corner of the robe and trotting over to him happily. Jared pats Harley on the head before he sends him off.

“Who the hell are you?”

After a moment of glaring daggers at Chace, Jared tells himself he’s better than this bullshit and turns to follow Harley back into the kitchen.

“Hey! I asked you a question.” The guy has no sense of self preservation, storming over and demanding things he has no right to. Jared’s guessing no one calls him on his shit because of Jensen. “Answer me.”

Jared gives him his back and walks away.

Chace grabs Jared by the shoulder roughly and his instincts take over.

Movements rapid, Jared twists Chace around by the hand, slamming him face first into the wall opposite. Pictures clatter to the floor. Chace is stunned, struggling against the hold but Jared‘s got a lot of muscle and height on him and doesn‘t give an inch.

“Let me go! Jensen will kill you --”

“Never, touch me.” Jared growls against the guy’s ear. “Ever.”

“What is--?”

“I need you to nod your head yes, or I may just forget my manners and snap your neck, got it?”

Chase nods.

“Good. You may be _fucking_ Jensen, and you may think that makes you something, but I’m Jared _Padalecki_ ; you’ll never be anything but shit compared to me.” When Chace bucks, Jared twists his arm violently, feeling the pull from the socket. “Remember that the next time you think you can put your hands on me.”

-

“So I hear your kitten has claws.”

Jensen doesn‘t stop counting his money, he’s been waiting for the smug asshole to come in and say his piece. “You men have nothing better to do than gossip? I must be slacking.”

“Chace has been running his mouth all the way from the hospital and back; Jared damn near ripped his arm off.”

The fallout had ruined Jensen’s entire morning. Instead of being awoken with a hot cup of coffee and a blow job, Chace had torn into the room screaming and clutching his arm.

The door to the bedroom has been shut all day. “I’ll deal with Jared.”

J.D. grins. “For Chace’s safety, I think you should keep him away from the penthouse.”

“Is this funny to you?”

“No.” But he’s laughing now. “It’s just…”

“J.D. get the hell out of my office, you’ve got loans to call in.”

-

It’s easier then Jared expects it to be. Truthfully, the hardest part had been getting to the second bathroom where the fire escape is located. The other is in Matt’s room so it might as well have been on Mars.

As soon as he locks the door behind him, Jared climbs out the window and unto the fire escape. He’s careful to not make any noise and move over the metal rails silently. It helps that most of the windows below are blacked out; whatever is going on in those rooms is something Jensen doesn’t want the government or outsiders seeing. Finally, he’s on the final floor and can jump down into the courtyard.

Jared gets his bearings and halts as soon as he hears a menacing growl.

Slowly, he turns around, already knowing what he’ll find.

A massive Rottweiler is at the foot of the gate, sharp teeth bared as it snarls.

Shit.

“You must be Loki.” Jared tells the beast uneasily. He takes a step forward and the Rottweiler snaps its jaws, spittle flying. Jared has no doubt the bite force on the thing would be able to take off his arm. “Easy, boy.”

Loki growls again, prowling forward. He looks as bloodthirsty as his owner. Sweat breaking out across his brow, Jared tries to keep calm, looks around for something-- _anything_ \--to defend himself with.

“Loki!”

Matthew’s yell from around front makes the dog stop advancing; he looks from the house to Jared indecisively.

“Go home, boy.” Jared encourages softly. “Just _go,_ you fucking giant mongrel.”

“LOKI!” This call is follow by a loud bang, metal striking metal. Matthew, the impatient piece of shit that he is, is going to save his life. “C’mere!”

Loki barks once in Jared’s direction before turning tail and heading to wherever Matthew is standing out of view.

Knees weak with relief, Jared jogs quickly to the gate and slips through out into the darkness.

-

The house is silent and dark when Jared lets himself in. He can’t hear anyone and thinks that maybe Gen isn’t home. Frustrated, Jared turns to leave and finds himself on the wrong end of a .45.

“It’s you.”

“It’s me.” Jared tells Genevieve. “Now can you lower the gun?”

Gen sets it on the hall table. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jared grabs the glock and put the safety on. “You’ve got Nicky running around, Gen, always put the fucking safety on if you can’t be bothered to lock it up.”

“He’s with Ma.” Gen replies, ushering towards the kitchen. “Have a seat; I’ve got a feeling you're going to tell me a long story. People are saying crazy shit; that you’re a hooker now or something?”

Jared reddens. “M’not.”

“Then what are you doing sucking people off in clubs?”

“Not people.” Jared clarifies. “Jensen.”

Genevieve eyes widen in shock.

“You wanted peace, Gen, _we both did_.” Jared rushes to explain. “This is the way to get it. There have been no more shootings, the violence has stopped--”

“Are you insane? This is your life you’re talking about! You can’t stay with him. You’re here now, good, that’s the first step.” She reaches for the phone, hands frantic. “I’m going to call Carmine, he’ll get this all—“

“No, you won’t.” Jared stops her. “This is my decision. I’m not trying to escape or get help; I just didn’t want you to worry anymore.”

“After what he did to you…what he put you through you’re okay to have sex with him? That can’t be right.”

“Jensen didn’t _do_ anything.”

“If he hadn’t come on to you, then everything that happened—“

“Shut up.”

Gen’s eyes narrow. “Does he know about the baby?”

She’s crossed a line.

Jared stands. He could almost hate her. “I’m leaving.”

“Jared, I—”

“Tell my father or anyone else who thinks they’re going to be my white knight: I don’t need saving.”

“I don’t want him to hurt you.” She runs after him and places a pleading hand on his arm. “Maybe if you told him the truth…”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jared shakes her off. “None of it does.”  
-

It’s no surprise that Jared can’t sneak in the way he snuck out. He doesn’t even try knowing that the back lot is being guarded by Loki. Instead, he goes to the front door, walking past the shocked faces of the men outside as they watch him, mouths agape.

Some redhead Jared doesn’t recognize answers the door. “Uh-oh.” She says, but moves aside as he goes to the elevator. “Heads are going to roll.”

Jared’s too immersed in his own thoughts to care. He keeps thinking about what Gen suggested. It’s something he thought about a few times, mostly when things got really bad with Salvatore. He’d wanted to reach out to Jensen, to beg him to understand why he had to lie about having a miscarriage, but the words refuse to leave him.

Jensen wouldn’t believe him anyway, and that would be something he could never forgive.

The polished elevator doors open and Jensen is standing against the wall opposite, cigarette in hand curling smoke all around them. He’s barefoot, denim splattered with oblong patterns of red.

Jared stumbles, tracking the bloodied prints down the hall, taking in the mess of the two unconscious men that Jensen is standing on.

“What are you doing?” There’s too much blood. It’s everywhere, the cooper scent invading his nostrils. “Why would you—“

“Get in the bedroom.” Jensen’s voice is quiet, deceptively so. “Now, Jared.”

“You’re going to kill them!”

No one in the room reacts, none of them help the two young men Jensen is trampling on while smoking fucking cigarette.

“ _You_ killed them Jared.” Jensen replies, voice that same eerie cadence. “The moment you left this house.”

It’s then Jared notices the hammer, closes his eyes just before Jensen brings it down on the back of the prone man’s head.

-

The mood shifts after the two guards are disposed of. The men blame Jared; it’s evident in the hate they have in their eyes and irrational considering the one to blame is Jensen for being a fucking lunatic.

Even J.D. no longer trades pleasantries; he merely drops off the dogs without a word. Jared wonders if the men killed were his friends.

“Put this on.” A bag is dropped at Jared’s feet. “Boss wants you to be ready to go in an hour.”

Apprehensive, Jared looks inside to find a slate grey Prada suit. Jensen has his measurements to a t. He stares at the expensive clothes. “Where am I going?”

“Don’t know.” J.D. answers shortly.

It shouldn’t sting, but it does.

“Had I known he would murder them, I would have never left.” Jared tries. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”

“No, I bet you didn’t.” J.D. replies frankly. “You wanted to show Jensen how inept he was, that you’re still the _Prince_ and above him and all he does.”

The words sound like they came straight from Matthews’s mouth.

“That’s not true.”

“Doesn’t matter.” J.D. unties the leashes, first from Sadie’s collar, then Harley’s. “You’re here on loan.”

Unintentionally, Jared touches his stomach. Even if Jensen comes to him, there won’t be a baby because he’s been taking his birth control religiously since he stepped foot in the ivory tower.

“Give him what he wants.” J.D. says lowly. “Give him what he wants and you can leave for good.”

-

When the car rolls to a stop in front of the stained glass cathedral, Jared breaks his silence. Mass is starting and several groups from important Families are gathering at the stone steps. It’s only been a month and a half since Adriano bled to death on them.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” Jensen’s eyes are unnerving, terrifying because there’s nothing in them. “I’m a religious man.”

“ _You’ve already won._ ” Jared says. He can see the others walking into the church. This is Padalecki territory; they’re the wolves who play amongst the sheep for atonement once a week. Jensen showing up here, making him stand with him; it will be lighting the fuse of a bomb. “There’s no reason to push. If you keep on like this, it won’t end well. My father…he’s. Just tell the driver to go back to the penthouse.”

Jensen leans over in the leather seats until his teeth play at the edge of Jared’s ear. “It’s not Carmine you should be afraid of.” He reaches over and opens the car door. “Get out of the car.”

They’re already staring; some with unease, others in open contempt and astonishment. People look away the moment Jensen steps out after him and the murmurs pick up to a dull roar.

This is the reason why Jensen had forced him here.

The tide has changed.

Carmine is at the top of the stairs deep in conversation with Father Michael. He must sense the change in the atmosphere because he glances behind.

Jared feels the old urge to bow his head, to differ but doesn’t. Jensen slides a hand around his waist and it takes everything in him not to throw him off. That would only make things worse. The expression on his father’s face doesn’t change but Jared knows him well enough to see through the mask: he’s livid, repulsed.

Jared keeps moving, pushed along by Jensen as they climb the stairs. He hasn’t done anything wrong, Jensen should be the one ashamed and yet they all look at him as if he’s disgusting.

One by one his family members turn away and give him their backs.

Colleen is at the church door, hand covering her mouth as she meets his eyes. She’s crying and Jared realizes the tears are an apology right before she walks into the church without acknowledging him.

When they reach the top of the stairs, Jensen smiles gamely at the nervous priest. “Good Afternoon, Father.”

“Good Afternoon.” Father Michael greets hastily before making excuses.

“Carmine.” Jensen’s hand tightens on Jared’s hip brutally when he tries to move away. “A pleasure to see you.”

Carmine doesn’t respond and his gaze is fixed on Jensen’s hand. As he watches, Jensen dips his fingers past the waistband, teases the top of Jared’s briefs. Short of making scene and drawing everyone’s attention, Jared can’t do shit.

Carmine finally breaks his gaze but doesn’t say a word, just shoulders past into the church.

This must be the difference his Father spoke of, Jared thinks bitterly; once again his father would leave him to fight on his own. It didn’t matter, this time Jared isn’t a scared teenager.

Jared doesn’t hear a word of the service. Jensen has publicly humiliated him, made him into a disgrace for the very people he sacrificed himself for. And they’ll never even know it. He’s gone from the Prince to the treacherous whore.

-

Jensen doesn’t get back to the condo until well after three in the morning. The moment he steps into the bedroom he spots Jared curled up on the floor at the foot of his bed, blanket wrapped around his thin shoulders. He looks down at him for a long time, the moonlight sending dappled light over his naked skin. Jared is well and truly beneath his heel now, especially after his display at the church. He’ll have no one to turn to.

And yet, the peace doesn’t come.

Jared makes a sound in his sleep and turns unto his back, the silver of his collar catching the moonlight. Jensen’s gaze slips down Jared’s lean torso, settles on his flat stomach.

_“Hey, sonny-boy.” Jensen presses his cheek against the warm skin of Jared‘s abs which are growing a little less defined by the day. “Say it with me: the Giants suck.”_

_“That’s what you want to tell him?!”_

_“It’s the most important thing!”_

_“For one thing, you mean Jets.” Jared laughs, carding a hand through Jensen’s hair. “And how about saying you love him? Normal shit.”_

_“That doesn’t need to be said, little man knows he‘s got me wrapped around his finger.”_

_“And what about me?”_

_“What about you?”_

_“Jensen!” Jared hits him with a pillow across the head. “Get off me then!”_

_“Sh! someone could hear!” Jensen dodges the playful blows easily. “The Boss has Brian patrolling the halls, there's a limit to how much Mattie can distract him.”_

_Jared immediately stops. “I didn’t know.”_

_“Don’t freak out on me, Jay.”_

_“I won’t.” Jared promises but it’s there again, the lingering fear that never leaves. They’re going to have to come clean soon; Jared’s waist is thickening already. “When can we tell him?”_

_“Soon.” There’s no telling Carmine. Jensen’s got around seventy five thousand saved, as soon as he figures out where they can go, he’s taking his little family and getting the hell out of dodge. “Let’s go back to talking about how you’ve made me the happiest guy walkin’.”_

_“I love you.” Jared ducks his face and kisses him, nuzzling his cheek affectingly. “We are going to have the most beautiful baby.”_

“Jensen?”

Jensen blinks and finds Jared staring up at him, hazel eyes wide in the darkness. The dark blue comforter is wrapped around him tight, like armor. He looks like a child and Jensen is hit with a remnant of protectiveness he used to feel.

Back then, he thought he had to shield Jared from the harsh realities of their life. He’d been a fool.

“Get on the bed.” Jensen replies shortly, stripping off his clothes. The sooner he gets his child, the sooner Jared is out of his life for good. “Spread your legs.”

-

Jensen’s not hurting him. His every action is perfunctory, detached. Jared almost wishes he would be cruel; the pain would at least be an honest emotion. But he hadn’t given him that; he had prepared him thoroughly with lube and slid inside robbing him of his breath.

Things could be so much uglier than they are; Jensen has the right to his body, the right to use him any way he pleases.

Jared had signed himself over, but Jensen’s still not hurting him.

That doesn’t stop the tears from coursing down his cheeks. He buries his face in the pillow, biting down as Jensen thrusts inside of him, hot and hard. He can feel every inch in the slow slide in and out, shivers with it. Jared wishes he would be an asshole, that Jensen would physically hurt him so he can finally break free from the spell once and for all. Stop thinking about the afternoons thee spent making love, secreted up in his room or when they drove out to the suburbs, parked in the shade of trees and pretended that the world was just the two of them. Jared needs desperately to forget; it’s the only way he can survive this.

Behind him Jensen makes a sound, hips picking up pace steadily. He leans down over him, pressing his weight into the mattress.

“You’re not a fucking martyr.” Jensen mutters against his ear. “You will enjoy this.”

A change in angle and he’s sliding over Jared’s prostate on every deep stroke, making his back arch and fingers twist at the sheets as stars explode behind his closed eyes.

Jared’s moving with him now, pushing back to get his cock deeper inside and hand reaching down in front to his own heavy, leaking prick. Jared jerks himself roughly, twisting and pulling as his ass clenches around Jensen and makes him curse as his rhythm falters.

Jensen’s panting now, chest blanketing his back and sweat dripping down as he slams into Jared over and over again.

Jared’s orgasm barrels through him like a freight train, and he comes with a low cry, squeezing Jensen’s cock, milking him as his come pours inside to slick his channel. The aftershocks are heightened by the dirty, sloppy way Jensen continues fucking his come inside until he’s wrung dry.

Almost immediately, Jensen pulls out and goes into the en suite bathroom without a word to him.

Jensen hadn’t kissed him, not once.

Jared falls asleep listening to the sounds of the shower, dry tear tracks itchy on his cheeks.

-

When Jared wakes, Jensen is gone, sheets cold. Jared wonders if he even slept there at all last night.

It’s all mechanical for him, isn’t it: try and knock him up and then force him to give up his child.

Seven years and nothing has changed. His life is still the same bullshit.

It’s been a long time since he’s had sex with anyone. He’s sore but not hurting, Jensen had given it to him hard enough so he’d feel it for days.

Jared can feel the itchy pull of dry come between his legs as he sits up and heads for the shower. When he washes between his legs, he lets himself consider what would happen if he didn’t have his birth control with him. The memories assault him. How his stomach had fit under the curve of Jensen’s hand, the little flutters he was just beginning to feel when his father walked in on them.

-

 

That night sets a pattern.

Jensen’s never rough, and barring the muted noises he makes when he comes is always perfunctory and passionless.

And every time Jensen rolls off of him, Jared hates himself for not even fighting, for meeting him thrust for thrust; for enjoying it.

It’s sex; debasing and primal. Jared must be a special kind of sick fuck because he gets off on it. The feel of Jensen’s body blanketing his own, the calluses on his fingers as they play over his skin expertly.

It excites him to have Jensen at his mercy, at his weakest.

Jensen turns Jared on his side, lifting his leg up. Jared bites down on his bottom lip, willing himself not to cry out when Jensen plunges inside, thick and demanding. It feels almost too good, addicting. Jared craves this feeling, his touch because he can finally feel something.

Hefting Jared’s leg higher over his hip, Jensen angles his thrusts down, pushing into the tight channel. It’s getting harder to keep quiet, and Jared fists his fingers in the sheets, turns his hot face into his arm to stifle his moans.

Evert time Jensen fucks him, he plays his body perfectly, keeps him on edge until -- another hard thrust from behind propels him forward on the bed and Jared gasps, struggling to catch his breath even as his body trembles in mindless pleasure.

“I think you’re starting to enjoy this, puppy.” Jensen bites down on his ear, reaching to stroke his cock in a hard rhythm. “You want me so bad, don’t you?”

“You said it yourself: I like sex.” Jared struggles to keep coherent. “This co-could be anyone. You could be anyone."

“Your honesty is refreshing.”

Unable to stop himself, Jared climaxes, his vision going black as he spurts come across the sheet.

Jensen is fucking into him wildly now, his thrusts hard and fast, the rhythm brutal and lacking finesse. Jared bites down on the pillow as his second orgasm tears through him and leaves his spent cock twitches desperately.

Jensen bites down on his neck as he comes was coming, spilling hot inside of him. Jared’s growing to love how it feels to be pumped full of his come.

Jensen’s panting against his skin, shaking as hard as he is. He’s still inside of him and Jared finds himself stunned to realize he wants him to stay. The steady staccato of Jensen’s heart beat against his back pulls him towards sleep.

Just as Jared’s eyes are closing, Jensen pulls out abruptly.

“What the fuck is this?”

“What?” Jared blinks awake.

“Why do you have his name carved on you?”

Immediately alert, Jared sits up, hand flying to the offending mark in silence. The raised skin meets his fingertips, like it always does. He’d forgotten. The first time in five years since it was cut into his skin and he’d forgotten.

Jensen stares back at him wordlessly, and Jensen realizes he’s waiting for a response on a question he hasn’t asked.

Cold sinks into him. Jared draws up the discarded blankets, covering himself. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Like hell you are.” Jensen grabs the sheet and yanks it down leaving him bare to his gaze once more. Jared reaches for the comforter. “Don’t you _dare_ fucking move.”

Jared lays still as Jensen moves to the side of the bed, staring down at every inch of his skin. There’s nothing else there, barring the brand. All of Salvatore’s wounds are left inside of him.

Forcefully, Jensen turns him over, hand sweeping his hair up and away from his neck.

“This looks like a burn.”

Jared doesn’t reply.

“He branded you like cattle.”

“It’s the mark of Cortese.” Jared’s pulse is picking up; the brand is a source of shame for him, a sickening reminder of what he’d done and what he lost. “I’m not the first to bear it.”

“You wanted it?”

“Yes.”

Jensen is looking at him, not at his body or actions but directly at _him_.

Like he’s a person.

Jared feels queasy.

“I don’t believe you."


	8. Gods & Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello !
> 
> Okay new warnings: Mentions of domestic violence.
> 
> shout out to my reader Grace who requested the nightmare scene, I hope you like!!
> 
> I think that's it, if you see a warning i forgot to add let me know and i will add it. Also I will go back and check this for mistakes tomorrow, I havent the time right now :/
> 
> I had so much fun with this chapter, i hope you all like. I'm always afraid when i post something you guys will be like "this sucks". It's constant stage fright.
> 
> have fun!
> 
> don't forget to tell me your ideas!
> 
> xC

You got that medicine I need  
Dope, shoot it up, straight to the heart please  
I don't really wanna know what's good for me  
God's dead, I said 'baby that's alright with me'

Gods & Monsters| Lana Del Rey

“I don’t believe you.”

Jared turns over unto his side to give Jensen his back, pushing away his hands. “I don’t care.”

Externally, Jared seems calm but his heart is beating in his chest rapidly. He can’t look at Jensen right now if he does, he’ll break into a million little pieces. He’ll divulge what he swore to never give away.

There’s a part of him--the sniveling child that believes in fairy tales—that wants Jensen to know so he can make it better. That’s not reality.

The reality is that Jared is always going to have this pain and no one can take it from him. The reality is that Jensen will never believe him.

“Jared.”

The wall opposite the bed is white, nothing on it. There’s no unnecessary clutter, nothing personal about this space. There are no pictures in the room, nothing of him. This place is empty and hollow. Jensen is a ghost.

“Jared.”

The impatience is apparent in Jensen’s tone, but Jared refuses to respond. He doesn’t owe Jensen this part of himself; the weak points. The things he hides away inside. He has secrets and the right to keep them.

Jensen can have his body, that’s superficial, but he can’t be— _will never be_ \-- privy to anything that matters. These pieces he’ll keep for himself.

“Jared!” His name is a curse and Jensen’s hand clamps down on his shoulder hard and demanding. “Look at me when I talk to you.”

Anger makes Jared react and he catches Jensen off guard. He shoves Jensen off of him, sending him sliding across the bed and falling down to the ground in astonishment.

Jensen rolls to his feet like the fucking cat with nine lives that he is. His jaw ticks, rage springing in the depths of his eyes. There’s murder there and Jared should be afraid but he isn’t. He’s furious himself as he watches Jensen stand to his feet, crack his knuckles as he stares at him.

“I’ve killed men for less.” Jensen says finally; he’s breathing hard, fists clench. He’s hanging on to his control by a thread. “I could strangle you right here, right now. It would be so easy.”

“Not as easy as you think.” Although Jared’s completely naked, at the disadvantage, he feels stronger than he has in weeks. “It’s incredibly difficult to have a baby with a corpse.”

“There are other ways of hurting you.”

“You can’t hurt me.” It’s a lie, of course it is, but Jared can withstand physical pain. He’d prefer it to the psychological warfare Jensen seems intent on waging. “What are you going to do? Punch me? Hit me? I’m not fragile; I can take whatever you do to me.”

“Is that what your _beloved_ husband did? Hurt you.” Jensen inclines his head, studying him and Jared realizes too late he’s given himself away. He can see Jensen’s mind working. “Did old Salvatore slap you around?”

It was so much more than that.

They stare at one another for several loaded seconds in silence.

“Answer me.”

“Why does it matter to you?” Jared asks instead. “Why should the answer change anything?”

“It’s doesn’t.”

“Exactly. I‘ll always be someone you need to punish, the person who has to pay for _every_ shitty thing you’ve gone through in your life. When I…” And Jared suddenly feels too drained to continue. “Just let me sleep, Jensen--”

“You _are_ responsible for every shitty thing in my life Jared.” Jensen prowls over to the bed, gripping Jared’s chin and forcing him to look into his eyes. “You killed me seven years ago, stripped away my dignity and self-worth. I gave up _everything_ to be with you, and you…for you it was a fling; insignificant. I had to scrape and crawl for everything I have but you, my Prince, had it handed to you  on a silver platter even after you murdered our unborn child.”

Every word cuts into Jared, makes him bleed and scream inside.

The first time Jensen kissed him Jared had been close to tears, assailed by memories of his mother’s death and the emptiness her passing brought to his life. Jensen found him, hidden away from prying eyes in the garage. He’d told him not to cry, voice soft and compassionate. He’d placed gentle kisses to his eyelids, one after the other, thumbs sweeping away the tears. It was the first time Jared felt truly cared for.

Jensen used to build him up and now he’s tearing him down.

“I wasn’t good enough for you.” Jensen continues, grip bruising. “But a _Cortese_ was. I wasn’t even out of the hospital and you were in his bed.”

“That’s not true. You knew that my father arranged the marriage before--”

“You let me believe different, you _told_ me different.” As if he can’t bear to touch him, Jensen’s hand falls to the sheets. His lip curls back into a sneer when he raises his head. “It looks like your Salvatore wasn’t prince charming after all.”

“I never wanted him.”

“Bullshit.”

“What’s bullshit is the story you’ve been telling yourself. The big, bad, evil Jared who’s caused you so much pain; you’re so fucking blind Jensen. What the fuck did I have to gain?”

Jensen’s smile is malicious. “Daddy’s love.”

“Fuck you.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Salvatore was an asshole. He thought I was a weak pawn; that I would accept his abuse. He was wrong.”

Jared’s never admitted it, not to anyone. His father had been there that night and sometimes Gen looks at him, a strange expression on her face when she believes he’s unaware, but no one knows for sure.

A secret is kept by two only if the other is dead, and Salvatore’s been dead for years.

“After the first time, I fought back. He realized he couldn’t break me and then he told me that he --” Jared stops himself, biting down hard on his lip to stifle the words that threaten to spill out. “What he did to me unforgivable. I stabbed him seventy three times the way the autopsy tells it. His blood sprayed across my hands and face and I kept going until my muscles burned and my lungs were on fire; until he ceased to exist.”

If Jensen’s surprised, he doesn’t show it.

His expression doesn’t change; it’s that constant unnerving stare. “What did he do?”

Jared thinks of his son, how tiny and defenseless he was; how he relied on Jared to protect him.

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“You were happy.”

“What?”

“You were happy on your wedding day.” Jensen lays back against the pillows and grabs a cigarette from the nightstand. He lights up, sucking in acrid smoke. “You were smiling and laughing; taking pictures. I saw you kiss him--I _saw you_ \-- and I knew then that what you told me in the basement was the truth. That what we had was a lie. Because you were happy; I saw it.”

Happy that I was going to be able to give birth to our son.

Happy that I would have a piece of you with me.

Happy that my sacrifice would ensure your safety.

“You think I deserved it.” Jared wonders how much a heart can break, when he’ll stop feeling altogether. “Whatever he did to me, you’re _glad_.”

Jensen doesn’t reply, continues to smoke as he watches the ceiling fan turn lazily. Jared can’t understand how he could have ever loved someone so cold.

“Is that what brings you to his grave Jared? Guilt?”

The last strands of affection he’s held on to wither and fade. There’s nothing left of his Jensen and he’s no longer the same.

“I hate you.” Jared whispers the words but in the stillness he knows Jensen can hear them. “If you think I deserved it….the way you justify what you’re doing to me, asking of me, just remember Salvatore ended up dead.”

“Don’t think you can threaten me.”

Jared reaches over and turns down the lights leaving them cloaked in darkness “It’s not a threat.”

-

“What do you need?”

“Salvatore Cortese’s medical records, including autopsy findings.”

“They’re sealed.” Will isn’t saying anything Jensen doesn’t already know. He’d tried to access them before, when news of the death had first come. He’d wanted the details to jack off over. “I would have to break in.”

“Is that a problem?” Jensen’s tone is icy enough that Will falters.

“We don’t need the attention if something goes wrong--.”

“Then you better make sure nothing goes wrong.”

Will frowns, question in his eyes. “What do you need them for?”

“It’s your fucking job to do what I say.” Jensen snaps. “That’s what for.”

“Cortese died of a heart attack, everyone knows that.”

A headache presses behind Jensen’s eyes. He closes them. “Will, if I open my eyes and you’re dumb mug is still in my office, I can promise you, you won’t like the consequences.”

Behind closed eyes, Jensen hears the door opening and closing as Will bids a hasty retreat.

There’s something that’s gnawing at him, like an itch he can’t scratch. Jared’s mother burned to death in a house fire when he was a kid. He had a thing about fire and smoke, used to bitch and complain even for his cigarettes. There’s no way in hell he’d sit and let Cortese take a brand to him. So his abuse allegations have to be true.

Jensen’s killed and he knows what it feels like, what it looks like when someone has taken a life. That look in Jared’s eyes can’t be faked. Jared killed his husband.

The question now is why.

-

The breakfast table is crowded. Matthew and J.D. keep to one side, heads bent in a conversation that excludes everyone else and two new men, replacements for the ones Jensen killed, stand at the door.

Jared picks at his omelet and toast, trying to lift himself out of his black mood. Chace doesn’t improve it. He’s seated across from Jared wearing a pastel sweater, made even more ridiculous by the sling he has on.

If looks could kill Jared’s certain he’d be dead a hundred times over. The slut seems to have learned his lesson though, barring the glares; he’s made no move to touch him.

“There’s a fundraiser at the Marquis tonight.” Chace announces midway through the meal, he’s rubbing a hand down Jensen’s arm demonstratively. This must be his revenge. “A clinic for disadvantaged mothers or something, we should go.”

Jared grips his fork hard enough to bend the metal.

Chace continues. “You’ve been talking about doing good local PR for Nico’s, this would look great in the papers.” This time he kisses Jensen’s neck, casting a sly glance in Jared’s direction. “Especially with me on your arm.

It’s done to get a reaction but Jared refuses to give Chace what he wants. Instead, he asks pleasantly. “What night is that? The 15th?”

He knows the fucking date because he planned the damn thing.

Jensen’s eyes flicker in Jared’s direction in warning.

He hasn’t touched Jared in three days; the sheets don’t smell like him anymore.

“It’s the seventeenth.” Chace scowls like a child. “Not as if you’ll be attending.”

“That’s one of my most fertile days.” Jared broadcasts blithely. His voice is saccharine sweet and he smiles at them. “Jensen, if we want to have a baby, we really should be fucking that night; all night.”

All the color drains from Chace’s face. “A _what?_!”

“A baby.” Jared repeats. He’d been right to guess that Jensen didn’t tell his little boyfriend this bit of fun. “Our bouncing bundle of joy.”

“You lying whore!” Chace pushes back from the table, sending glasses and utensils falling in his haste. “Jensen would never--”

“Oh but he would and he has.” Jared pops a piece of cantaloupe into his mouth. licking the juice as it runs down his fingers. “Jensen?”

Jensen looks like he wants to choke him to death.

It’s all the evidence Chace needs. As soon as the shrieking begins Jared excuses himself form the table and walks back to his room, smiling all the way as the new guards trail him

That night Jensen fucks Jared hard against the wall, bites and sucks his neck as he turns him face first into the wall. Jared can’t breathe and when he comes, color sparks in front of his eyes.

-

Matthew produces a paper bag and shoves it against Jared’s chest. “Take it.”

The bag drops to the floor between them.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see, Prince.” Matthew kicks it to him.

Jared snatches the bag up, and looks inside.

A pregnancy test. Shit.

“I don’t have to pee.”

“Take it.” Matthew snarls impatiently already on his phone. “Now. Jensen is waiting for the results.”

Five minutes later Jared comes out of the bathroom to find Mathew standing right where he left him, eyebrows furrowed angrily like Jared is the one inconveniencing him. “Well?”

“Negative.” Jared tosses the piss covered stick in Matthew’s direction, snickering when he bats it to the ground in disgust. “Tell Chace that I guess Jensen and I will have to keep trying.”

“Chace will be here long after you’re gone, Padalecki.”

“I don’t care.” Jared flops down on the couch, puts his feet up--and because he hates Matt, because he can, he winks at him. “I’m here now.”

-

Jared lifts his ass up, arching his back as Jensen slides into him deep on the first thrust. He can take it easily now, body opening easily for Jensen’s cock.

“I wish you could see yourself like this.” Jensen says huskily. “Cock slut.”

Biting his lip to stifle a groan, Jared turns his head to watch Jensen move, his head is bent, eyes closed as he snaps his hips forward demandingly in search of satisfaction.

“Still so tight for me, honey.” Jensen sinks his teeth into Jared’s shoulder blade as he pumps in and out. The forgotten endearment makes Jared’s skin flush hot. “Let me hear how much you hate me.” Jensen shifts up to his knees, dragging Jared back to meet his thrusts.

“Oh, fuck,” Jared groans helplessly when Jensen hits his sweet spot.

Jensen presses against his prostate, hitting it again and again and again until Jared climaxes, clenching down on him hard as he shoots his load on Jensen’s Egyptian cotton sheets. He can feel when Jensen comes, the burst of warmth flooding his channel and leaking out on his thighs. He’s starting to enjoy how it feels; how right it feels.

While Jared catches his breath, Jensen heads for the shower, kicking off his jeans as he goes. Jared does the same but ventures out into the hall to use the guest bathroom. One of the guards raises a brow to him and Jared blushes faintly wondering how loud they were.

Jared’s dressed by the time Jensen gets out of the shower. He’s not wearing any of the expensive clothes Jensen has bought for him, but has on worn jeans and a faded tee shirt. He’s looking for his chucks but has the sinking feeling that Jensen threw them out.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jensen is wearing a black robe, towel drying his hair as he walks into the bedroom.

“I need to get back to my clinic.” Jared finally spots his sneakers and tugs them out from behind the dress shoes. “We’re understaffed and Chad needs my help.”

“Like I give a fuck.” Jensen snorts. “Take off your clothes.”

“There’s no reason to—“

“The reason is I told you to do it.” Jensen drops the towel on the floor. No one should look intimidating in a robe but Jensen manages to. “That was the exchange.”

“The exchange was a baby.”

“I’m still waiting on that.”

Jared looks away. “I could be infertile.”

“Pray that you’re not.”

Jared can’t have that argument here, not now. “Look, I need to be able to leave the penthouse and I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

Jensen leans back against the dresser. “Alright, Jared.”

“Really?” Jared’s stunned at how quickly he agrees.

“Two days a week.”

Jared grits his teeth wishing he could not give a fuck about strangers who are forced to guard him. “Fine.”

“But you must do something for me.”

“You have all the leverage.” Jared wishes he could wipe that smug look off of Jensen’s face. One day he will. “What could I possible do for you?”

“I’ll let you know when the time comes.”

-

“Grab those boxes on your way down stairs.” Chad yells when Jared walks inside the Clinic. He looks at Matthew who is standing sullenly at his side with J.D. “You brought workers? Good! Shawn is back in school fulltime, we need someone to do the grunt work.”

“And you’re just going to sit pretty behind the front desk?”

“This gorgeous face brings in the customers.” Chad turns to Matt completely ignoring the sour expression on his face. “Get the pamphlets disbursed into the color coded bins. They’re lined up in the break room, which is right down the hall to your right.”

Matthew looks at Chad like he’s speaking a foreign language.

“I’ll do it.” J.D. volunteers right as Jared says, “They’re not here to help.”

“Then why are they here?”

Good question. He lands on something close to the truth. “My Dad hired them for my protection.”

Chad knows what and who his father is, but he doesn’t like hearing about it. He prefers to think of the mob as a fictional thought and influence. The reality of it is too much for him.

“Fine.” Chad says. “Get to work.”

Jared rolls his eyes but does what Chad asks, partly because he knows it will take Chad hours to do it alone and partly because he needs the hard labor. When he gets back upstairs, the parenting class has started and Chad is in the conference room holding a plastic doll and explaining the rigors of diaper changing to six at risk pregnant teens. J.D. is actually organizing the pamphlets in the waiting room.

For now, Jared doesn’t have to answer the numerous questions Chad is no doubt waiting to spring on him so he makes a cup of coffee and tries to get his emotions in check while avoiding Matthew’s hostile eyes. He can’t afford to fall apart right now.

Jared’s doing book keeping when Chad pokes his head into his office, armed with two chocolate muffins. “We need to talk.”

“About?”

“Don’t play dumb; Ackles.”

“What about him?”

“ A little birdie told me that you moved in with him!”

Jared grimaces.

“But that birdie must’ve been drunk because there’s no way in hell you would be anywhere near the guy, not after everything that’s happened?”

Jared remains stubbornly silent and Chad’s eyes go wide.

“You’re on drugs.” Chad accuses hotly. “Is this a cry for help?”

“It’s only for a couple of months, don’t be so fucking dramatic.”

“What the fuck is going on Jared, are you in trouble?”

“Again, I’m fine.”

“Is he making you do something --?”

“Shit, Chad, he’s not making me do anything. You of all people know my history with him.”

“Then what is it, talk to me.”

Jared sighs and thinks about the upcoming months. He won’t be able to handle being interrogated at every time and looking up at Chad’s earnest face, he knows the questions will never stop.

So he tells the truth.

Half of it. Jared spins some bullshit about second chances and trying to reconnect with Jensen after years apart and Chad buys it, either because he’s too dumb to see the truth or he wants it to be true badly enough.

When Jared gets back outside, Kevin, a former client is in the waiting room. Before Jared had left, he’d been weeks away from giving birth, now he’s standing with a blue baby carrier at his feet.

“Kevin!” Jared walks over with a wide smile. “How are you, man?”

“I heard you were back!” Kevin hugs him in greeting. He’s a kid, just turned seventeen. “When Joanna texted me, I knew I had to get here just in case you disappeared again. How’ve you been? How’s the hot boyfriend who whisked you away to Paris?”

Jared gives Chad a look and the other man shrugs. “The boyfriend is good.” Jared kneels down. “This can’t be who I think it is.”

“That’s my Alex.” Kevin smiles softly as he lifts away the blanket that had been covering the bar and subsequently the baby’s face. Alex is sleeping, long, sandy lashes resting over his plump cheeks. “I followed our birth plan to the letter. You really helped me, Jared, I’m so grateful.”

“He’s beautiful, Kev.” Jared can’t take his eyes off the tiny infant, so perfectly formed and sweet smelling. “May I?”

“That goes without saying.” Kevin unhooks the baby and transfers him to Jared’s arms, keeping his head supported and tucking the pacifier into the baby’s mouth when he begins to protest being moved. “He likes you, I can tell.”

There’s nothing Jared loves more than the slight weight of the infant in his hands, the trusting eyes that stare up into his own as he hold him. Jared clasps the baby close as Kevin continues to talk, feeling its tiny heart beat against his as he inhales the talcum powder scent and touches the little fingers that clasp his on reflex.

“It’s time to go.”

Jared blinks his eyes open at Matthew’s harsh words, unable to remember closing them in the first place. He finds J.D. looking at him with an expression he can’t place. The older man doesn’t glare when their eyes meet, instead drops his gaze.

“I hope you can keep in touch.” Jared gives the baby back to the teen, missing the feeling already. “We offer follow up parental classes and support.”

“I totally will.” Kevin promises kindly, rocking Alex when he begins to cry. “Thanks, Jared; we’ll see you.”

-

That night Jared dreams.

_The summer sun hangs low in the sky, rays warm and pleasant even as the air holds a chill. It’s nearing evening and they should be heading back into the city but it’s hard to move from their bed of grass Jared is so damn comfortable. He’s spread out a warm flannel blanket, propped up against Jensen’s chest_

_Jared wants to stay forever, bugs and all._

_They’re not doing much of anything-- haven’t all day. They’ve spent the afternoon just being together, sometimes dozing, other times exchanging mind numbingly slow kisses as they talk about their future._

_Jensen nibbles down Jared’s neck, grinning when he lets out a yelp._

_“You ate the last of the twizzlers, fat ass.” Jensen complains, settling on his back when Jared pinches him for the insult._

_The sun has turned Jensen a deep tan, making his green eyes stand out. His hair is longer than it’s usually kept, messy from Jared fingers._

_“Didn’t you say you bought them for me?”_

_“For us, to share! Yours, mine, ours.”_

_Jared snorts with laughter. “Communal property already?”_

_“That’s what marriage would be, honey.”_

_“Don’t call me that.” Grinning, Jared tugs the long end of the stem out of Jensen‘s mouth. “You’ve gotta go the whole nine yards and chew sweet grass like a hick.”_

_“You like it, admit it, the truth shall set you free.”_

_“I love you, babe.”_

_“How is it that you can call me babe and yet ‘honey’ is banned?”_

_Jared props his chin on Jensen’s chest, looks up at him._

_“We’re gonna have a white wedding.” Jensen muses aloud. “Can’t shame everyone into thinkin’ you‘re nothing but as pure as the driven snow.”_

_“Should’ve thought about that before you had me in your bed.”_

_Jensen chuckles, fingers twining through his own. He moves them unto their sides, holding Jared fast against his chest when he attempts to wriggle away. “Had you in my car, in the garage, in your dorm, in the Walmart…I‘m starting to think you‘re a lil cock slut.”_

_“Shut up!” Jared is bright red at this point and more than a little turned on. He squirms against Jensen feeling how Jensen‘s affected as well when their hips slot together. “Keep that talk up and I’ll keep my legs closed tight before the wedding.”_

_“I’d die of blue balls.”_

_“Then shut up.” Jared twists in Jensen’s arms, lifting his face to meet his kiss half way. Jensen tastes like Sweetgrass, tangy and honeyed. “Or you’ll have a very long month ahead of you.”_

_Jensen’s hand skirts down his side, tickling and Jared twists and turns trying to escape to no avail._

_“Jensen! Stop!” He laughs until his side hurts, and Jensen continues after him. “Stop!”_

_The fingers get harder, aggressive. They dig into his skin as the summer sky bleeds into black. Darkness erases Jensen’s face and Jared’s left alone, the pain exploding down his back._

_“Jensen! Stop, Jensen! Stop—” There’s a baby crying and Jared struggles to hold him. His baby. The cries are getting weaker, more distant and he can’t seem to get close no matter how hard he tries. He’s losing him. Again. “Noah, Noah, I’m here! Don’t go, baby. Noah--_

Jared wakes up gasping, fighting the arms around him as his legs tangle in the sheets. The more the person tries to retain him the harder he fights.

“Jared.” Jensen’s muscles flex, hold him down as he rolls atop of him to cover his body with his own. “Calm down. You’re awake.”

Jared shudders, he can’t catch his breath. He’s cold, so cold and alone.

“Who’s Noah?”

That name coming from Jensen’s lips, their son’s name, makes the tears impossible to contain.

“Jared? Did this guy hurt you?”

It makes him cry harder, and this time Jared heaves Jensen away. He curls in on himself, trying to disappear; wanting to disappear. He feels raw. The dream had been so real, Noah had been here. He had felt the weight, the movements against his chest. To wake up and find that it was all a dream brings back memories he’s desperate to lock away.

Jared wants Jensen to leave him alone, expects him to, but Jensen surprises him. He touches Jared’s shoulder tentatively before he wraps an arm around him pulls him back against his chest like he did that day.

“Don’t touch me.” Jared’s voice is strangled, between his thighs are still slick with Jensen’s seed. He hates him. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

 Jensen either doesn’t hear the words or doesn’t care; he doesn’t let go.

 

-

The day has been a complete waste of time. Jensen’s hurt himself more than he’s helped his business. His fuse had been short, and no matter what was being said, he lost composure.

It’s Jared.

Jensen can’t figure out what he’s hiding and he’s convinced he is hiding something. More so, he hates himself for even caring. Jared’s tears should have no effect on him, his pain should be Jensen’s triumph but it’s not turning out that way.

Mathew may be right; he doesn’t have control over the situation. Jensen can feel his friend watching him from across the car. Jensen is making crucial errors, nearly lost a supplier after he picked up two stray runners on his block. These are mistakes he can’t make; his grasp on power is tenuous.

“What’s taking so long on Cortese?”

Will tenses beneath his suit. “I’m trying to get access Boss, but---“

Warm blood sprays against Jensen’s face just as searing pain tears through his side.

The shriek of tires and the unforgiving clash of busting glass is the only thing that registers before Jensen feels the rapid fire of multiple rounds of lead hitting the car.


	9. Love Me Like You Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy Darlings :)
> 
> Oh Hello plot heavy chapter--sorry to my porn seekers, bu this was necessary.
> 
> WARNING: Blood
> 
> and the story of Artemis and the Bear i heard from this movie, i don't recall the name, I want to say preservation..?
> 
> Also, I'm in the middle of finals and will be unable to post until next Thursday/Sunday most likely. i have two term papers to write and have ZERO written...which yes, poor decision to write this over that! uGH. 
> 
> Anywho: point out mistakes, suggest to your hearts content! I have no problem accommodating scenes if they fit my vision for this fic.
> 
> love you guys!
> 
> xC

You're the light, you're the night  
You're the color of my blood  
You're the cure, you're the pain  
You're the only thing I wanna touch  
Never knew that it could mean so much, so much

"Love Me Like You Do| Ellie Goulding

-

Loud voices break the stillness of night; Jared opens his eyes and looks towards the door, noting the light streaming in. He can hear the men arguing, voices escalating in intensity. Intuitively, Jared knows that something is wrong but he doesn’t move from the bed.

The door bursts open with enough force that the door knob cracks the wall. Jared can see Jensen clearly silhouetted against the light spilling in from the hallway. When Matthew tries to follow, Jensen shoves him back with one hand, the other gripping the doorknob. Matthew doesn’t try and come in again; instead he stays outside and stares after Jensen like a bereft puppy that’s been chastised.

“They’re behind this, Jensen! Will is dead because of _them_.”

Matthew looks in the direction of the bed where he knows Jared is, and his face twists into something dark and vile. Even though Jared knows the other man can’t see him, the rage he feels directed at him—the jealousy—sets him on edge.

Jensen kicks the door shut without replying.

The door closes on Matthew’s expression and Jared files the feeling of disquiet away; a warning to keep him alert and aware in the future. What Matthew feels towards him is beyond anger for the past; it’s homicidal.

Staggering, Jensen moves forward his steps uneven. Dispensing of the pretense of sleeping, Jared sits up and flips on the nightstand light. His heart plummets into his stomach.

Blood is soaking through Jensen’s white silk shirt; Jared can see the red stains on his fingers. At Jared’s sharp intake of breath, Jensen drops down unto the couch, pulling off his jacket as he goes. He doesn’t look in Jared’s direction once, simply continues to strip off his clothes.

Jared wants to remain silent, wants to be unaffected but it’s impossible. Because Jensen’s bleeding profusely, and the hand he’s pressing to the wound is doing nothing to stifle the flow. Blood is dripping down his side, spreading into the waist band of his briefs and spattering unto the sofa.

Remembering how Jensen held him after his nightmare, Jared climbs out of bed and walks over to him. “What happened?”

There’s no response and even though he should let it go, Jared can’t.

“Jensen.”

With a huff of annoyance, Jensen shoulders past him and strides into the en suite bathroom. His footsteps are still unsteady as he turns on the shower. Steam is billowing through the glass door when Jensen steps under the spray. All the while Jared stands there like a statute as he showers, watching the red swirl down the drain. He can see the strength leaving Jensen’s body.

When Jensen gets out of the shower he looks at Jared like he’s a hindrance.

“Get me a towel.”

Biting his tongue on a retort, Jared grabs the largest one from the bar and hands it to him. He can see that it’s a scratch now, deep and gaping, but a scratch. The bullet must have grazed him.

Jared watches Jensen towel himself dry. “You need to go to the hospital.”

That makes Jensen laugh. “I’ll go to the hospital, right after I fill out a police report.”

Jensen drops the towel to the floor and walks back out into the bedroom stark naked, mindless of the blood he’s leaving in his wake. He opens the top right dresser drawer and pulls out a small black box. He throws it at Jared, hitting him in the chest.

Reflexively, Jared catches it. “What is this?”

Jensen pulls on black boxers and shakes wet hair back from his forehead. He looks vulnerable like this; freckles standing out in caramel flecks against his pale skin, lashes wet and dark accentuating his green eyes.

“I need stitches.”

“But I…” The thought makes him queasy. His mouth goes dry as he looks at the needle and medical grade thread inside the container. “I don’t know how.”

“It’s a simple stitch.” Face ashen, Jensen drops down on the chaise lounge. “Just fucking get to it before I bleed to death.” Distrust makes his eyes narrow. “Trust me; you won’t be better off if I die.”

_No, he’d lose his mind._

“Do you have anything for the pain?”

“I did a line before we got in.”

Jared wants to laugh at the machismo but it catches in his throat when he looks down. This is the first time he’s seeing Jensen nearly naked to his gaze. When they have sex, Jensen always remains  fully clothed. He’ll pull his dick out and make Jared suck him off or he’ll have Jared naked across his lap while he’s in a fucking three piece suit. Jared assumed it was a power thing; he was wrong.

He looks down at the scars, stomach rebelling at the sight of the twisted tissue marring his body. There isn’t a space that remains untouched. Each limb holds a twisted story of pain and abuse.

Before, Jensen had been like something out of a magazine, perfect and unblemished. Jared used to call him a Ken doll.

And now--

“Admiring Daddy’s handiwork?”

Jared snaps his mouth closed, struggling to calm down. “T-try not to move.”

Although Jared says that, he can’t get his fingers to work. He put each and every scar there. He doesn’t know how Jensen survived. He thinks back to that day seven years ago when his Father had walked in on them. He remembers the way the men threw Jensen to the floor, held him down and beat him bloody even as he begged his father not to kill him.

Not to hurt him.

There are old and new scars; the worst, licking out like flames high over his ribs in flat, wide lines. They’ve been put there by a whip. Bile rises in his mouth, and Jared swallows down hard. Jensen had said he was strung up and his back flayed to the bone.

“Come on, _hurt me._ ” Green eyes follows Jared’s gaze bright with unfiltered resentment as plush lips twist up into a dark smile. “Make me feel it like your old man did.”

The first push in with the needle is the hardest.

Jared tries to be swift, he tries to make it as painless as possible but every time he hears Jensen’s gasp or feels his muscles tense to brace against the sting he feels like the needle is going through his skin.

Although Jensen doesn’t make a sound, Jared can feel his burning gaze. He watches Jared work silently.

Finally, Jared’s closed the wound as best as he can and cuts off the loose thread. “Bandage?”

Wordlessly, Jensen inclines his head in the direction of the armoire where he retrieved the box. Beneath Ziploc bags filled with OxyContin, Jared finds a large square bandage big enough to cover the wound. The shelves are stocked with iodine, butterfly bandages, ice packs; etc. This isn’t the first time Jensen has been hurt like this. Jared grabs a roll of the gauze and medical tape to smooth it over Jensen’s side after spraying antiseptic.

“Who did this?” Jared finally asks the question that’s been on his mind. “What happened? Does someone want you dead?”

“Why do you want to know?” A flicker of emotion Jared can’t identify flashes in Jensen’s eyes. “Want to send them a thank you note?”

“I’d never…” Jared stops himself mid-way through the denial. There’s no point in defending himself. Jensen will never believe him anyway. Still, when Jensen winces he can’t shut up. “You should take the OxyContin.”

“And you should get on your knees; best pain killer there is.”

Jared falters when he looks at Jensen and finds him palming his cock through his briefs. “You’re injured.”

“Not where it matters.”

“You--”

Jensen’s hand grabs him by the hair with an unexpectedly harsh grip, dragging him forward. “Get on your knees.”

Jared obeys.

-

Jensen wakes abruptly from a nightmare, frowning as awareness slams him with agony. His skin is painful, feels like it’s stretched too tight as his vision blurs and fades at the edges. He can feel the burn of the wound searing into his side, spreading down his body in scorching vines.

Feebly, Jensen touches his fingers to the puffy edges, hissing at the lance of pain that follows. He’s felt like this before and knows he’s fighting an infection.

Beside him, Jared is fast asleep, as hot as a furnace. He’s on his side, facing Jensen as if he fell asleep that way. His hair curtains his face, catching on his jaw.

Jensen chases the heat, moving closer to Jared as his teeth chatter. He can smell Jared’s aftershave now, clean and sharp, his shampoo tampering it to peach. Jensen curls as close as he can, groaning.

At the noise, Jared rolls away in his sleep and Jensen follows. Back when Jared was in the dorms, they’d squeeze in side by side on the tiny twin bed. Jensen had been backed against the wall, and Jared pressed against his front. The comforter almost always ended up on the floor and he was always toomwarm. He’d never slept better. Even when they fought they never slept alone.

Body working on memory alone, Jensen brings an arm around Jared’s shoulder, nose burying into the soft curls at the base of Jared’s neck. He inhales deeply. This he remembers; this he knows.

“What are you doing?” Jared murmurs, turning over to peer at him through bleary eyes. He goes to move Jensen back but when his hand touches Jensen’s skin he pauses. “Jen, you’re burning up. You‘ve got a fever.”

“M’fine.” Even as he says it, Jensen knows it’s not true.

“You’re not fine.”

“Just get Matt.”

“Matt?!” Jared shakes his head. “You need a doctor.”

The world tilts on its axis and Jensen struggles to keep it in focus.

“Matt.” Jensen insists, grabbing the sheets in an effort to stop the spinning. It feels like he‘s falling. “Get him…now...he knows…”

The darkness pulls him under.

-

The room is fraught with tension.

Jared has stopped pacing up and down the hall and is now standing against the wall and sending silent prayers. Harley and Sadie wait with him, lying at his feet. They know somethings wrong, both subdued and sullen. The dogs also help to keep some of the braver men away. Everyone in the room blames him for this and no one will tell Jared why.

The doctor that Matthew called has been examining Jensen for going on twenty minutes. When Jared attempted to follow her in, Matt slammed the door in his face. The two of them had nearly come to blows, and Jared regrets not breaking his smug face in. But Jensen getting help had been more important than the animosity he felt. Jared stares at the bedroom door willing it to open.

Doctor Cassidy is young, but Jared recognizes her as the poster child for the Neurology Department. She’s something of a prodigy, graduating high school at 12 and going on to become a physician and subsequently a neurosurgeon. Jared wonders how someone like her ever got mixed up in the underworld.

Harley whines low and Jared scratches the pup behind his ears. He feels helpless, afraid to close his eyes even as fatigue weighs his lids down. There’s the fear that he’ll close his eyes and wake to find Jensen gone. With Noah, he’d been told he passed in the night.

“He’ll be fine.”

Jared looks up to find J.D. standing above him. The man’s been playing peacemaker for hours. He’s the reason why he’s still in one piece. With Jensen out, there are several men waiting to take a piece out of him.

“Jensen is a tough son of a bitch.” J.D. continues. “I’ve seen him live through worse; too stubborn to die.”

“My father?”

“Don’t know; wasn’t around for that.” J.D. comes to sit down on the wall next to him. “I’m talking about the turf war with Blanco. Donnie’s death made them think they could strike; Jensen got shot right here, two centimeters from the aortic valve.” He taps his chest, right below the heart. “It was touch and go for a couple of days but Jensen is strong. He‘s always been; don‘t worry.”

Jared is stunned; he had never known. There hadn’t been any talk of it in the Family. Jensen could have died and Jared would’ve never had the chance to speak to him or see him again. It leaves Jared shaken and he starts to think about what he’d do if Jensen doesn’t make it through tonight.

Huddling in on himself, Jared tries to chase the thoughts away; attempts to not think about all the things that could go wrong. “I told him he needed professional help.”

“That he does.” J.D. grins, deliberately misinterpreting.

Jared laughs but it comes out choked, getting stuck in his throat. Jensen is usually so strong; impenetrable.

“You really care about him. I can tell.” J.D. says quietly. He’s staring at Jared sympathetically. “I was starting to think you…”

“Think what?” Jared challenges. He’s tired of being questioned and undermined by people who don’t know him. “I don’t know what happened tonight, but I do know that I’m sick of being blamed for shit.”

“You’re a Cortese…” J.D. simplifies. “And after that stunt you pulled, which cost Bruce and Simon their lives, I wanted to wring your privileged little neck.”

“I’m sure Matthew loved that.”

“Matthew wants to protect the boss, because he doesn’t trust you.”

“I’ve never done anything to hurt, Jensen; ever. Period. He’s the one who wants to hurt me.”

“Your father tortured him.”

“And I ended it!” Jared yells, a few of the men startle and look at him like he’s crazy. “That’s what no one remembers, what Jensen doesn’t remember: _I fucking ended it_. For him.”

Before J.D. can respond to that the bedroom opens. Doctor Cassidy looks terrified when she comes out of the bedroom, Matt close behind her. Her eyes flick to Matt’s intimidating face before they fall back to the floor.

“Well?” Jared demands.

“Mr. Ackles needs to be taken to the hospital immediately.”

“No hospitals.” Matt snaps. “I told you that already, you stupid bitch.”

“I’m not equipped to treat this kind of infection here.” Doctor Cassidy has blood on her latex gloves. Jared watches them twist as she pleads. “Mr. Ackles is displaying symptoms of Sepsis; he needs to be put on heavy antibiotics. Without them, he won’t make it through the night.”

“If Jensen doesn’t make it through the night, neither do you.” Matthew’s wild eyed at her words as he unsheathes a knife. He presses it against the thin skin of Doctor Cassidy’s neck. “Don’t think you get to walk out of here if he dies. I‘ll slit your fucking throat myself.”

The young woman looks petrified, eyes rolling back in fear as Matthew’s grip tightens. Blood wells up where the blade bites into her skin and Jared knows that Matthew is past the point of reason. Yet no one is saying a word, every single one of these men would let her die for telling the truth.

“Matt.” J.D. finally intercepts, pulling Matthew off of her in a single strong movement. “Get your head together, this isn’t helping anything.” He looks at the doctor. “You need to start coming up with solutions outside of the hospital.”

To her credit, Doctor Cassidy tries to maintain a brave face. She doesn‘t break down into hysterics, but keeps her voice level even as her own blood trickles to stain the collar of her blue tee shirt. “I don’t have the clearance to get the antibiotics on such short notice, not without raising suspicion and bringing the police down on your organization. That‘s the last thing you want.”

This only sets Matthew off. He begins to yell at the doctor and J.D. tries to referee.

The whole scene descends into chaos.

All Jared can think about is Jensen dying.

_Without them, he won’t make it through the night_

“What type drugs do you need?” Jared breaks through the arguing.

“Intravenous antibiotics.” Doctor Cassidy’s is shaking now. “I’ll start him on a general round until the blood test can narrow the specific bacterium that’s causing the infection. Once I know, then I can begin a more focused treatment. For that, I need access to the lab and pharmacy.”

“The Chief of Staff at St. Peter’s would have access to everything you just mentioned, correct?”

Her eyes widen. “You know Dr. Miles?”

Jared tells himself that this is for Jensen. “My family does.”

“I’ll write the names of the antibiotics down for you.”

-

“He’ll never agree.”

“Gen, please.” Jared lowers his head, resting his forehead on the cold glass of the window pane. It’s just past two am and the city is still wide awake below. It doesn’t feel right that the world is still turning. “I need to have access to the pharmacy, and I need those specific drugs.”

“Again, why?”

There’s a chance that she won’t even try if she knows they’re for Jensen. “I can’t answer that.”

“Are you hurt?” Alarm makes her shout. “Did Jensen do something to you--”

“Would you just listen to me?” Jared slams his hand against the window in frustration. “I’m asking you for a favor Gen, get to Dr. Miles tonight.”

Genevieve’s silent long enough that Jared’s heart begins to beat over time, thinking she’s going to deny him.

Jared looks over at the bed where Jensen’s sleeping fitfully. His complexion is grey, sweat matting his dark blonde hair to brown against his skull. He hasn’t moved once since Jared came in to make the call.

“Can I count on you, Gen?”

She sighs. “Give me a couple of hours.”

-

Exactly two hours later, Genevieve is standing in the middle of the Ackles building lobby clutching her Céline bag to her chest and glaring at the guards that surround her. Even as small as she is, dressed in her designer trench coat and sky high heels, she is defiant and stands her ground; a racketeer’s daughter through and through.

The guards step back when Jared comes out of the elevator.

“Gen!” He hugs her in gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Thank my father.” Genevieve steps back, brushing back her hairs with a gloved hand as she extends a large white shopping bag. “He’s the one who pulled the strings.”

Jared pauses. “Why would he do that?”

“You’re family Jared, still are, even with Sal gone.” She smiles up at him. Her brown eyes remind him so much of Salvatore’s. It’s incredible that he can love her the way he does even as he hates her brother. “I can’t stay here much longer, we both know that.” She squeezes his hand comfortingly. “Take care of yourself, and remember that you can always call on me.”

“I know.”

Jared waits until Gen gets behind the wheel of her car and drives away before going back upstairs to Jensen. He hands the bags to Doctor Cassidy and waits.

-

The change takes some time, nearly three days. Jensen  starts showing improvement on the third day. He can follow Doctor Cassidy’s  alertness tests and answer simple questions. There won’t be any permanent damage.

“Try and drink some.” Jared tips the edge of the cup, sending cool water over Jensen’s chapped lips. “See if you can keep anything down.”

“Not a kid.” Jensen grumbles and Jared hides a smile.

Jared places the cup down on the nightstand and reluctantly gets to his feet. “Doctor Cassidy says you can start on solids if you feel up to it.”

“I’d kill for a donut.”

“More along the lines of soup.”

“Fuck no.” Jensen leans back against the pillow, eyes sliding down in fatigue. “I still have nightmares about your famous chicken soup. "

A surprised laugh leaves Jared as he picks up the soiled bandages and empty I.V. bags. “You remember that?”

“Never forget.”

“You took the greyhound and caught a cold.” Jared smiles, it still feels so real. “We spent most of spring break in my dorm room.”

“Boring.”

“Not what you said back then.” Jared counters. “Remember what you said?

There’s no reply and Jared looks over to see that Jensen has fallen asleep.

Like he did back then.

_“It hurts.” Jensen grouses, peeking up at Jared when he sits down on the bed with a bowl of soup._

_“Where does it hurt?”_

_Jensen sneezes. “My chest.”_

_Recalling what his mother would do for him as a child, Jared leans down and presses a kiss to Jensen’s collar bone. “There.”_

_“What was that for?”_

_“To make it better.”_

_“Then my dick hurts.”_

_Jared laughs. “Even sick you’re a perve.”_

_“Mm.” Jensen closes his eyes. “No more soup, come to bed.”_

_“But you’ve hardly eaten—“_

_“Just need you.”_

_Jared can’t say no to that. So he toes off his sneakers and squeezes in next to his boyfriend, snuggling close._

Jared speaks aloud anyway, drawing the cotton blankets up over Jensen’s waist. It can’t be possible to love and hate so deeply. “You said it was the best vacation of your life because you were with the best thing in your life.”

-

Once again, Jensen wakes up to Jared holding him. He’s finally clear minded. However, he doesn‘t move away, instead he watches Jared as he sleeps. There are dark smudges beneath Jared’s eyes and he’s unshaven. He looks exhausted. Jared had never left him, bathing him with cool cloth until his fever broke, feeding him when he was too weak to do it himself, and running after Cassidy if the pain got too bad.

Jensen’s having difficulty figuring out what that means. He doesn’t know why Jared willingly stayed, after everything that has passed between them.

Jared makes a noise of contentment in his sleep, mouth parting in a tiny snore. It makes Jensen laugh softly under his breath. The sound surprises him. Jensen used to love that about Jared.

Despite everything they’ve gone through, here Jared is. The weak part of him wants to believe this is real, believe that Jared doesn’t have an ulterior motive.

As quietly as he can manage, Jensen shifts away from Jared, hissing in pain when his movement pulls at the stitches.

Jared’s hazel eyes blink open instantly. “You awake?”

Jensen doesn’t reply, just continues to stare up at the ceiling.

“So you’re back to being an asshole,” Jared says quietly. “I can tell you’re feeling better.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then go to sleep.”

Jensen watches the ceiling fan turn. The sound of busting glass rips through his mind, the limpness of Will’s hand as his life left him “When did you last speak with your father?

“Why?” Jared asks.

“Answer me.”

Jared sighs. “Before I came to you.”

It would be so easy to believe him; stupidly easy.

But the facts don’t add up.

Somehow Carmine had known.

“So it was my father who shot you.” Jared says the words slowly, like he can’t quite accept them as true them. “He did this to you?”

“Most likely.” It’s said with a casualness he doesn’t feel.

“I can promise you that I had nothing to do with this; and if I had known I would have warned you.”

“Who’s Noah, Jared?”

The look of pure panic is back once more even though Jared tries to hide it.

“No one.”

“Salvatore ended up dead.” Jensen repeats staring at the collar's stark darkness against Jared’s skin. “Isn’t that what you told me?”

Jared sits up, hands folding defensively. “What are you accusing me of? Just fucking say it.”

And Jensen not entirely sure.

“Give me my child soon, Jared, for your sake, soon.”

-

 

Jared’s seated at the kitchen table, fuming as he stares unseeing into a cup of coffee. He had to get out of that room. If he had stayed he would’ve murdered Jensen just like the prick accused him of trying to do. The worst part of this is that Jared’s not angry, he’s hurt and that’s what fucks with his mind. He’d actually thought that… he thought things were changing between them.

Footsteps come and Jared puts a hand on the knife he’s brought down with him. But it’s just J.D.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Jared shakes his head, irritated. "How can you be around him, work under him?"

"The Boss is a good guy."

Jared doesn't reply and J.D. takes his silence as an invitation to sit down across from him.

"You ever hear the story of Artemis and the Black bear?"

"No but I have the feeling I'm about to."

"The way I recall it: Artemis is called by Zeus to hunt this murderous black bear named Callisto. Now, Callisto is no joke; she's big as a brick shithouse and built with teeth like jaws."

"This doesn't sound like the classic telling--"

"Anyway, Artemis is just a kid when she's called to take out Callisto but she doesn’t really have a choice. It’s time for her to put up or shut up. The first few days alone out there with the big, bad she's scared shitless, just trying to survive. But then she gets an idea, as young as she is, Artemis gets smart. She cuts off all her hair and gets rid of her clothes. Then she ties a bear pelt over her skin, puts on bear teeth over hers and a bear head over her head. She stopped speaking, started growling like a bear and walking on all fours. Till one night, when Callisto is out cold, Artemis crawls right on up to her and Callisto seeing' her with the disguise, doesn’t even realize that she isn’t her cub. Before sunrise, Artemis cuts off her head. That was the moment she became a god."

"Jensen isn't a god."

"He's the closest thing to it on these streets." J.D. pours himself a cup of coffee and refills Jared's cup as well. "The way Matt tells it, the way I've seen it, sometimes Jensen is Jensen and sometimes he ain't."

"Like split personalities?"

"Nah, son, they're both him. The nasty one, who's got a chokehold on the city, he's the bear: he's what Jensen had to become."

"I hate him."

"No one would fault you if you did.”

“There’s no if.” Jared mumbles, pointedly ignoring J.D. laughter as he leaves. “I do.”

 

-

Chace isn’t spoiled. He’s privileged. With his privilege comes a certain kind of responsibility. All his life Chace has been told to straighten up and fly straight. He’d been walking the line before he met Jensen at _Jessie’s_ ; he’d been content to be just another sheep. Jensen changed all that.

There’s a current, a pull that comes from being with Jensen that makes Chace feel alive. He’s addicted to the attention; the adoration. Chace is more than just a pet to be pampered and cast aside; he knows he can rule alongside Jensen.

Everything had been going so well until Jared Padalecki walked into their lives. Chace used to think it was just sex it wouldn’t be the first time Jensen took another lover; Chace understood he has needs, but this is different. Jared is a threat.

Chace can see the way Jensen’s eyes follow Jared when he’s unaware. He can feel the distance when Jensen fucks him; like he wants him to be someone else. Jensen is slipping away and Chace will do anything to hold on.

The drive-by has Jensen on high alert but even that didn’t drive him to snap Jared’s neck; Chace needs something else. He’s certain that Jared is hiding something, and he’ll find out what it is.


	10. Leave My Body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Program!!
> 
> Hello all,
> 
> Warning: Discussion of death of infant, SIDS; funeral
> 
> A-Okay, so I am back from my finals (sorta got one left but its my easier class) and i got caught up with the Irish wake because it brought up some memories.. i hope you all enjoy.
> 
> Also, i see there was a bit of unpleasantness while i was gone. i did give warning that i had finals, if you're upset or angry at me, please do me a favor and just not comment..as silly as it seems, sometimes i get my feelings hurt by rude people. So just save yourself the effort and leave it unsaid. Why would you want to make another person feel bad? 
> 
> This chapter is for drawgirl who was like my knight in shining armor! Thanks for having my back and getting that user to delete their comment before i saw it and could be affected.
> 
> thank you all who have been so kind and great to me--i will finish this story for you!
> 
> Please feel free to share your ideas/thoughts!  
> xC
> 
> P.S: Thank you to the reader who recommend the song Leave My Body, i love it and you're right, it's a great fit for this J2

I don't need a husband, don't need no wife  
And don't need the day, I don't need the night  
And I don't need the birds let them fly away  
And I don't want the clouds, they never seem to stay

I don't want no future  
I don't need no past  
One bright moment  
Is all I ask

Leave My Body | Florence and The Machine

 

-

It’s dark when Jensen wakes and begins to get dressed. Once he gets out of the shower, he looks out over the city, watching dawn bleed pink and red into the grey skyline as he smokes on the balcony. For the first time in a long time he feels out of his depth; like his head is just above water.

Jensen shrugs into his jacket, movements stiff and side aching. He’s fully dressed in a back suit and tie when the clock strikes eight. He’s not at one hundred percent but today is important. He has to be there to pay his respects. Will deserves it.

Jensen pulls the covers off of Jared’s sleeping form. He rolls over unto his back, eyes opening.

“Get dressed.” Jensen tells him. “We leave in thirty minutes.”

For once Jared doesn’t argue.

-

The ride uptown is somber, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

The Moseley’s town house is filled with people regardless of the early hour. As the car is parked, Jensen watches streams of people walk in with covered dishes of cake, cookies and sandwiches. Friends and family are gathered from the brick steps to the hallway, trading memories and stories about Will over pints of Guinness. Jensen recognizes Will’s brothers still young enough to be able to cry.

Most of the men congregate outside, smoking with the older male relatives, but Jensen, Ben, J.D. and Matthew go inside. Jared follows reluctantly behind he looks pained, eyes glassy and mouth pinched in a thin line.

The women are indoors, speaking quietly and there Will is.

The coffin, beautifully carved oak, is in the center of the living room wrapped in traditional white linen.

Mrs. Mosley greets him in the kitchen, face white and smile strained. She claps his hands in hers and kisses his cheek warmly.

Jensen can still feel the rush of warmth against his face when the bullet blew apart Will’s skull and sprayed him with brain. He can taste the coppery tang in his lips and hear the chaos around him.

“I’m sorry for your troubles.” Jensen tells her out of duty; because it is expected of him.

“Thank you.” She smiles that tired smile once more. Jensen can tell she hasn’t been sleeping, and she wears that haunted look of grief like armor. “Stay and eat, there’s plenty.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, for coming, Mr. Ackles. I know…” She takes a steadying breath. “My boy would want you to be here.”

Following Ben, Jensen goes to coffin and stands there and pays his respects while Ben says a prayer. Jensen hasn’t had to bury many of his men, and he doubts he’d care if others met their end but Will had been with him for years. Since he was nothing. His loyalty and persistence was a beautiful and rare thing.

Another thing Carmine robbed him of.

Midway through Liam’s rousing story of Will nearly burning down their middle school lab, Will’s daughter Lucy toddles up to Jensen, juice box clenched in hand. She holds it up to him hopefully. Lucy is Will’s spitting image; all curly blonde hair and big, brown eyes. She’s not going to have a father growing up.

Ineptly, Jensen takes the juice box from her and pierces the straw through the hole. She beams at him like he’s moved heaven and earth. It’s hard to remember not to feel when he’s faced with such innocence. Lucy climbs up unto his lap, the black, velvet bow of her dress dragging to the floor.

Jensen has altered her life; she won’t have a father.

The guilt is foreign, and leaves Jensen feeling sick. He looks away from her little face and finds Jared staring at him. Beneath his tan, Jared’s gone pale, knuckles white around the sweating neck of the beer bottle. He looks like he’s in pain, his eyes transfixed.

There’s a loud burst of laughter from some uncle or something of Will’s as another story is told.

Jared abruptly gets to his feet and walks out of the room. Placing Lucy back in her mother’s arms, Jensen follows, finding him outside on the steps bumming a smoke. His hands are shaking as he holds the cigarette to his lips.

“Don’t leave the room without letting me know.”

Jared inhales smoke tremulously. “I’m an adult; I can fucking leave if I want to.”

“You’re surrounded by people who know you’re Carmine’s son.” Jensen jabs a finer into his chest. “They’re burying Will because of your father. They can’t get to him but they’d gladly kill you in his place.”

“Then why bring me here?”

It’s what everyone else is wondering.

Frankly, Jensen doesn’t know.

“I want you to see the pain your father caused, the pain he continues to cause.”

“And you’re so different.”

“The lesser of two evils.”

“Is still evil.”

Jensen chuckles darkly. “You know how to make this all go away.”

Jensen eyes flicker to his. “Whose child was that in there? The little girl.”

“Will’s.”

“She’s …beautiful. You were good with her.” Jared looks down at the glowing end of his cigarette. “When they’re that young….it makes you think…it makes you realize that everything can be alright in the world.”

“How do you figure?”

“No one loves like a child does; unconditionally and pure.” Jared smiles and his eyes are misty; nostalgic. “When Nicky first looked at me….felt like I was sucker punched. He’s got these eyes, you know, and they’re so gentle and trusting….makes me never want to let him down.”

Genevieve’s son. Jensen has seen them together once when he waited in the car outside of the Clinic. He could have been theirs, favoring Jared’s coloring and the light eyes of the elder Cortese.

And Jared had been so natural with him, affectionate.

Jared continues to speak unaware of the maelstrom raging inside of Jensen. “He looks at me like I hung the moon and stars in the sky; it’s hard to feel like your shit when someone thinks you’re the world. And I guess...to children, we are. They rely on us to protect them…” Jared trails off and Jensen looks at him, surprised to see tears filling his eyes. “You do everything you can and sometimes it’s just not….”

The sentence hangs between them, unfinished.

Jensen swore he wouldn’t do this; the past was the motivation for the present but it would be partitioned, barricaded in his memories so as not to hurt him. Nothing can hurt him anymore.

Still Jensen hears himself ask, “You ever think of them?”

“Them?”

“Was it a boy or a girl? I thought it was a boy.”

“J-jensen—“

“Our baby.” Jensen looks him dead in the eye, searches for something he can’t name. “The one you killed.”

Jared stares back at him incredulous, mouth slack in something akin to hurt before he turns away. Jensen grabs him by the wrist, forcing him forward.

“We should go inside.”

“Answer me: do you ever think of him?”

Jensen’s grip tightens of its own accord, his fingers squeezing down on bone to leave deep bruising in their wake. The tears have vanished and Jared looks back at him with an unseeing gaze. The few remaining relatives outside are watching them.

“Always.”

The response is whispered and nearly gets carried away on the wind.

It’s what Jensen wanted to hear; maybe Jared knows that.

Jensen drops his wrists and Jared rubs the abused skin absently. His cigarette has fallen to the ground and he grinds it out with the boot of his foot.

Without another word, Jensen walks back inside, listening to the footsteps as Jared follows.

The special rosary for the dead is said close to midnight right before the body is removed to the church.

-

Will is buried on the day after the wake.

Numb, Jared watches the men pay their respects, expressions muted and eyes reproachful. It’s clear they loved Will.

The coffin is carried by Ben, Jensen, Matthew J.D. and Will’s brothers.

At the funeral mass they each speak about Will, none mentioning his criminal activities.

Jared stands among them, cast to the side as the wind blows harshly around the cluster of individuals. He knows that the majority blame his father and consequentially him. The remainder who don’t wish it was him in Will’s place.

Ben is the only one who sheds a tear, brown eyes glassy and spilling over once the Priest says his final words. Jared’s tears are for a time he’s vowed to forget, for a son he held for a few brief moments.

_“You’ll get through this.” Salvatore takes Jared’s hand in his, squeezing in comfort. “You’re strong.”_

_“I can’t do this.” Jared barely has the strength to stand, his knees buckling as the tiny bundle is carried into the bedroom. ”I can’t. I can’t.”_

_“I can't make the pain go away. I wish I could, God help me, I do, but I can’t.”_

_When Salvatore’s arms enfold him, Jared shoves him away, curling into the fetal position as the doctor comes closer. He can’t stop staring at the blanket. He knows who they’re saying is in there but it can’t be true; he won’t let it be true._

_“All I can do is support you and help you deal with the grief.” Sal takes the unmoving bundle from the Doctor and places it on the bed. “You have to say goodbye; I know it’s difficult but you’ll regret it if you don’t.”_

_Jared looks down at the unmoving baby, takes in the blue lips so like Jensen’s and tiny closed eyes. His lashes are long, fair and perfectly formed. It looks like he’s sleeping._

_Jared remembers waking to the warmth of his baby on his chest; he’d felt him move, had felt his heartbeat against his own._

_How can he be gone?_

_How can Jared lose the only person left in this world that gives him a reason to be alive?_

_“Noah stopped breathing last night.” Salvatore continues, and he’s crying as well as he sets the baby down into Jared’s arms. “He’s gone and we have to say goodbye.”_

_Jared thinks of the countless times Jensen’s had his head pressed to his stomach, thinks of how much he wanted a son and promised to love them forever. He remembers a time when he was secure in the love they had and certain that they would be happy_

_Everyone he loves has been ripped from him; he’s failed them both._

_Jared looks down at the baby, so still in the crook of his arm, and screams._

“For dust you are and dust you shall return.” The priest’s voice breaks Jared from the grip of the past.

The sound of the clumps of dirt hitting the coffin stays with Jared all throughout the ensuing ceremony.

Back at the penthouse, Jensen opens bottle after bottle of champagne, whiskey and beer.

A final farewell.

Be not afraid comes through the speakers and no one says a word. Jared listens to the words, hears them and draws comfort. It’s been yeare but he still hurts, still aches for his son to hold just once more.

-

For the first time since this twisted game started Jensen fucks him face to face. He isn’t rough or hurried, but slow and deliberate, calloused hands running over Jared’s body skillfully to leave him a shuddering and gasping mess.

Jared can’t escape his smoldering stare, feels overwhelmed by him as Jensen moves in and out of his body in a maddeningly slow place. He can feel every inch of his hot length, prying open his channel and lighting all his nerves on fire.

Unable to remain silent, Jared stuffs his fist against his mouth, stifling his moans.

That displeases Jensen who pries his hand away. “Let me hear you.”

Jensen must be in pain, his wound is still angry red and raised but he’s showing no signs of stopping, sweat beading at his brow and dampening his hair.

“Say my name.” Jensen’s eyes are unwavering, taking in every shallow breath and startled groan Jared lets out when he hits his sweet spot.

“Jensen.” Jared finally gives in, twisting his body up to meet the powerful thrusts eagerly. He can see Jensen with the little girl in his mind, and in that moment he wants that. He wants to be the one to give Jensen that again. “Yes, god, yes.”

The headboard is slamming against the wall in a telltale rhythm. Jared’s sure the men can hear them; he doesn’t care.

Matching Jensen’s movements, Jared opens his legs wider, brings him closer.

And then stops.

Beneath the limited candle light, Jensen lashes are dark, clumped and Jared raises a hand to his lean cheek, wetness greeting him. Something inside of Jared wrenches lose. Jensen is hurting. Despite everything, Jared wishes he could take the pain away.

Unthinking, Jared rises up, brushes his lips over Jensen’s full ones tentatively in the only comfort he can offer. The breath leaves him as soon as their mouths touch, a bolt of awareness striking him and making the sex into something indefinably more. Something he wants. It’s their first kiss in seven years. Jensen has never once kissed him, fucked him yes, but no kissing. He gets a brief taste of Jensen’s unique sweetness before he turns his head brusquely, breaking the kiss.

Jared slides his fingers through Jensen’s sweaty hair grappling, trying to hold on. “Jensen--”

“That’s not us.” Jensen holds him down and away, draws back unto his haunches. His hands are rough on Jared’s hips as he drags him forward to meet his brutal pace. “Not anymore.”

The words lance through him but there’s nothing Jared can do but hold on, grip the bed sheets for purchase as Jensen pounds into him. It feels good, and he hates Jensen for that. For being detached, while he twists Jared into knots.

With a muted curse, Jensen pushes in deep, grinding his hips forward as he comes suddenly. His eyes are tightly closed, tendons straining on his neck as he‘s flushed in orgasmic color. He’s gorgeous like this. Jared reaches down and gets his fingers wrapped around his straining length, jacking himself off to the sight. He can feel Jensen filling him and clenches his ass as he comes, milking every last drop.

Jensen collapses on top of him, face buried in his neck.

It’s okay. Jared thinks. It’s okay.

-

Chace slides unto the empty stool, taking in the hunched shoulders of the driver. There are empty glasses littering the bar top around him. Everyone in the place has been giving him a wide berth.

For some people, death is hard, Chase supposes. For him, it’s a part of life, especially their life. No one lives forever, and that’s why you have to wrench what little happiness you can get from the bitch called life while you can.

Chace sits there in silence for several moments, ignoring the worried glances Chris and Tom keep sending down to them. He knows what he’s doing, has known Ben going on a year. The guy was head over ass for Will. He’s suffering without him.

“How you holdin’ up?”

Ben’s answer is to down the last of his beer and start on another one.

Will was the stronger of the two; had to be. Ben is easily manipulated and acts on emotion. It’s gotten him in hot water before, not collecting dues and being taken in by sob stories. If it weren’t for Will, Jensen would’ve cut the yellow bellied bastard a long time ago.

Chace is counting on Ben being just as malleable now.

“I need your help.”

That gets a scowl.

“I’m not in the giving mood.” Ben stares down into his glass. “I’ve just buried my fiance.”

“I didn’t know you two were getting married.”

“No one did.” Ben gives a watery laugh, running fingers through his mussed hair agitated. “He thought it was safer that way.”

“Carmine’s going to pay; Jensen will make sure he does.”

“Sure he will.” Ben replies grimly “Jensen is too busy fucking his son to think of anything or anyone else.”

“You know why Jensen is doing what he is.” It’s hard for Chace to understand the why behind it but Jensen needs what he needs. His concern is making sure the Padalecki isn’t here to stay. And for that he needs Ben. “The problem isn’t Jensen; it’s Jared.’

“As long as he’s with Jensen he’s untouchable.”

“Unless I can show Jensen that he can’t be trusted, that he needs to be eliminated.”

Ben puts down the glass, unfocused eyes locking with his. “And how are you going to do that?”

Chace feels excitement thrum within his veins. He knew it would all be worth it. “I have a plan, but I need your help. Can I count on you?”

“You can.”

-

As soon as he returns from his shift at the Clinic, Jared pours himself a fifth of whiskey. He tries not to drink, not since he developed a taste for it but sometimes it’s all that can calm his nerves. All calls to his father have gone unanswered and Gen swears up and down that the hit wasn’t carried out by the Cortese or Carmine.

That leaves a burning question: who.

The alcohol burns going down and warms his chest. He’d been doing pretty good cold turkey till now.

Matthew passes the living room and falters, eyes smoldering with naked hate that never abates. He’s changed. Jared drains the rest of the glass in a single swallow.

“Get upstairs.”

Jared doesn’t move, reaches for the bottle of Jack to pour himself another.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

There’s no doubt in his mind that Matt is waiting and wishing for an excuse to take him apart.

Not today, but soon.

Jared picks up the bottle and the glass as well, moving around Matthew to get to the stairs. He’s bone tired but he hasn’t done shit all day. Jensen has been in and out of the house but he’s never around Jared for long.

Everyone is tight lipped. The moment Jared wanders into the room, the men stop talking or leave entirely. They think he had something to do with the hit, stupid motherfuckers. He grips the bottle under his arm as he goes; here’s to sobriety.

“You can’t drink that shit.” With much more force than necessary, Matt snatches the whiskey from his hand, nails scratching him in the process. His smile is nasty. “You’re trying to get pregnant; remember?”

His blood pressure kicks up, adrenaline screaming for him to give Matt what he’s asking for. But Jared’s learned self-control, and he can hit Matt where it hurts without throwing a single punch.

“What’s the matter, Matt?” Jared returns the smile with a sneer of his own. “Jealous?”

Some indefinable emotion flickers in Matt’s eyes.

It‘s a small victory.

“Jensen doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“Doesn’t really answer the question, does it?”

Before Matt can do something like shove him up the stairs, Jared walks up them already envisioning another evening spent watching boring movies and cleaning his gun. He’s nearing the landing when the front door opens and several people spill through talking loudly.

The voices are familiar.

Careful to remain out of sight, Jared stays at the corner and watches them from upstairs

“Merri!” Matthew calls out in greeting, kissing the older woman on both cheeks. “How was the flight?”

“Simply lovely!” She exclaims. “JR bought us first class tickets, it was like a spa! Never seen anything so fancy!”

Meredith.

Jensen’s mother.

Jared had met her once before, she’d been a small woman, diminutive and sweet. She hasn’t changed much except for the added finery. Where it was simple gingham and denim, now it’s a silk shawl and designer handbag.

Jared’s stomach twists. He watches the ease with which she interacts with Matthew as Jensen looks on fondly, sickening grin slapped on his face as his mother gushes over how much the building has changed and how much they’ve changed.

She’s always been that way; he remembers when he met her.

_“And who do we have here?” Meredith wipes her flour stained hands on her apron, looking Jared over thoroughly. Her kitchen smells like cinnamon and sugar. One look at her earnest expression and loose, frizzy curls and he likes her immediately. “Is this the boy you’ve been talking my ear off about? You know, JR thinks you‘re the greatest thing since sliced bread--”_

_“Ma.” Jensen rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Already with the embarrassing?”_

_“Or the greatest thing since the Power Rangers! He loved them.”_

_“Nice to meet you, m’am.” Diffidently, Jared extends a hand, but Meredith brushes it aside to draw him into a warm embrace. “Jensen speaks very highly of you.”_

_“None of that now.” She protests as she hugs him tight. “I understand we’re to be family soon enough.”_

_Jared blushes, smoothing down his flannel shirt over his stomach. He doesn’t want her to judge him for getting knocked up. “So…uhm…you’re excited to be a grandmother?”_

_“Grandmother?” Meredith’s eyes nearly bug out of her head and Jared realizes his mistake. He’d just assumed. She swats Jensen with an oven mitt, while whooping and hollering in excitement. “Grandmother!”_

_“I was going to tell you.” Jensen grouses, but he’s laughing, hand on Jared’s back reassuring him that everything is alright. “We just found out a few weeks ago. It’s still very early on.”_

_“Then what did you mean by family?” Jared asks. “If not the baby then…”_

_It’s Jensen’s turn to flush. “I told her I was going to ask you to marry me.”_

_Jared’s mouth goes dry, pulse fluttering. “Going to? Like, you’re not anymore.”_

_“Don’t be stupid.” Jensen squeezes his hip affectionately. “I’m waiting for the right moment.”_

_Jared gives him his most winning smile. “This is the right moment.”_

 

Back then, Meredith had welcomed him with open arms. They’d stayed in the tiny ranch home for close to four days. He’d gotten to know where Jensen came from, understood what made him so determined and strong. He had seen a different piece of the man he loved; saw how tender and loving he was to his little sister.

Under the wide open Texas sky, Jared had forgotten the stress of hiding his relationship and pretending. He’d felt like everything was going to be okay. He’d been so wrong.

Below, Jensen is still accepting hugs and kisses from his mother while his sister stands by exasperated. His entire demeanor has changed. He’s smiling and laughing, open and calmer than he has been the entire time Jared has been here. Jared’s missed the sound.

Meredith doesn’t even know he’s here.

Jared wonders what Jensen told her about him, if anything at all.

-

Chace is having dinner with Jensen and his annoying sister when his phone rings. He welcomes the excuse. Rose has been purposefully excluding him the entire evening, monopolizing Jensen with her boring talk of horses and county fairs.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” Ben replies, he sounds excited. “I’ve got something. Will was looking into Jared before he, uh…he got some info that you’re going to want to need to see to believe. How soon can you meet me?”

Chace looks back towards the dining room where Rose is speaking and looking in his direction. He smiles sweetly at her and waves.

“Give me forty minutes.”


	11. White Flag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oye! 
> 
> Hello readers (Still with me?)
> 
> So sorry for the delay, but there's a flu going on up here and I've been covering shifts so i'm pressed for time to edit. The good thing is, i'm making more money which i need, the bad thing is that i missed an update day :0(. 
> 
> This is a pivotal chapter though so i hope you guys will be happy with me.
> 
> oh and warning for come play? lol
> 
> let me know what you think!
> 
> xC

I know I left too much mess and  
destruction to come back again  
And I caused nothing but trouble  
I understand if you can't talk to me again  
And if you live by the rules of "it's over"  
then I'm sure that that makes sense

I will go down with this ship  
And I won't put my hands up and surrender  
There will be no white flag above my door

I'm in love and always will be

White Flag | Dido

 

-

It’s nearing midnight when the bedroom door creaks open. Jensen walks over to the dresser, stripping out of his clothes without acknowledging him.

Jared’s getting tired of this routine.

“Have a nice time with Mommy?” The words come out as a sneer, Jared doesn’t mean them to. “Have you told her that you’re keeping me prisoner in your shitty apartment and forcing yourself on me? Bet she’d be real proud of her sonny boy.”

Jensen scoffs, kicking off his shoes. “There ain’t any locks on the doors.”

“Except if I leave you murder the guards.”

Jensen grins at him, a genuine smile that brings out those crinkles at his eyes he loves so much and Jared falters. “Thems the breaks, kid.”

“I should just go down and fill her in.”

“Do that and I’ll put a bullet right between sweet Colleen’s eyes.”

The words chill Jared. “You’re asking for trouble, having her so close by.”

“Gonna be the one to give it to me?”

It takes every inch of willpower Jared possesses not to detach the loaded gun from behind the headboard and blast the smug prick in his pretty face. Killing Jensen would mean certain death on his end but, damn, it’d be worth it just to wipe that look off his face.

“It’s obvious she doesn’t know I’m here. She could run into me, what then?”

Jensen shrugs. “Stay out of sight and there won’t be any issues.”

That seems to be the end of Jensen’s offering of conversation. He climbs into bed, not touching Jared as he lights up a cigar. It's the same brand Matt smokes. The distance needles him.

“Did she…” The question has been on his mind for a while now. Jared had met the woman, spoke with her several times. She had been so nice to him. “I mean, she never asked about me?”

Jared’s not expecting an answer but he gets one.

“She did.”

“And?”

“Told her you died.” Jensen flips off the bedside light, blowing out a cloud of thick smoke that leaves Jared nauseous. He sounds pleased with himself. “She was real torn up about it.”

“Asshole.”

“It was the truth.” Jensen says bluntly. “For all I cared you could have been dead. Same way you treated me.”

All thoughts of conversation evaporate. Jared decides to shut up before he does something crazy like blurt out the truth or slit the pig’s throat. Consequences be damned.

This constant swing of emotion is wearing him thin. He thinks of Jensen form the night before, vulnerable and hurting.

“Did I upset you, puppy?”

Jared gets his iPod out of the nightstand drawer and puts his head phones in, drowning out whatever Jensen’s saying. He feels rather than hears Jensen laughing.

Since the death of his son, there hasn’t been a night where Jared doesn’t struggle to fall asleep, mind swarmed with should- haves and might- have beens. Jared’s thought so many times of what he could have done differently.

If only he hadn’t gone into premature labor; if only he hadn’t fallen asleep for those crucial moments; if only he had seen Salvatore for the monster he was sooner.

If only he’d defied his father the way Jensen wanted him to even if it meant Jensen’s death.

But what kills Jared, what absolutely ruins him, is that if he could go back, he’d still make the choice to protect Jensen.

The choice that sealed his baby’s fate.

A hand lands on Jared’s hip and his eyes open in the darkness. “Fuck off.”

Jensen ignores him, moving to press against his back, cock hot and hard against him.

“I said no.”

The smell the stale cigar smoke envelops Jared when Jensen kisses down his neck, bites hard enough to leave marks. It’s enough already. He reacts before he can think.

Moving swiftly, Jared reaches over the side of the bed, fingers closing around the handle of the Swing Blade he’d taped to the bottom of the mattress. Before Jensen can process anything, Jared rolls over on top of him, flips the razor sharp edge to his jugular.

He holds the knife to his throat. “Touch me tonight and I’ll gut you.”

Jensen doesn’t move, doesn’t sweat. He lays flat beneath him, eyes dark under the sallow light of the moon.

“Swear to god, Jensen; I’ll do it.”

The tension is a tight coil inside of Jared, spring loaded and ready to burst. He’d felt this way when Salvatore admitted to smothering Noah in his sleep, called his son a bastard who wasn’t fit to take his name no matter what they agreed before they got married. Reality and reason fractured to pure rage. He’d stabbed and stabbed until there was nothing left.

But Jensen doesn’t react, doesn’t say anything and continues to stare up at him for several long seconds. Jared’s shaking with the restraint it takes not to just unleash.

And then Jensen laughs.

He throws back his head and laughs like having a knife to his throat is the single most hilarious thing that has ever happened to him. The movement causes Jared to nick him with the blade. Blood bubbles to the surface in fat drops and Jared feels flair of panic but Jensen doesn’t stop laughing.

The sound sends chills down Jared’s spine and he suddenly feels helpless even though he’s the one holding the knife.

As abruptly as it began, the laughter stops.

“You still have that fire in you.” Jensen looks up at him with something like admiration. “Get off of me.”

Jared turns away, still keeping the knife close when Jensen reaches for the lamp.

The light makes Jared wince but when his eyes adjust to the brightness he can see that Jensen is still hard. He stands at the foot of the bed, stroking the shaft of his dick as a tiny trickle of blood runs down his neck.

Unable to look away, Jared watches. He hears Jensen’s shallow breaths; sees the rise of his muscled chest as he teases himself to completion. Jared should look away but he doesn’t. He can’t. He has the feeling Jensen doesn’t want him to. Jensen’s emerald eyes are trained on him closely, mouth parted in a silent moan as he races closer to orgasm. His hand speeds up, becoming a blur, hips canting forward to thrust into his fist.

By the time Jensen finally comes Jared’s half hard and squirming beneath the covers. This is entirely fucked up.

“Lay back.”

More out of habit then actual protest, Jared shakes his head, looking at Jensen’s closed fist.

“Either lay back on your own or I’ll have my men hold you down.”

Jared flexes his fingers on the knife; he could probably take Jensen in a struggle—

“You can’t.” Jensen tells him flatly, seeming to read his mind. “If I thought you’d use that against me, you’d be knocked out col, worse to follow when you regain consciousness. Don’t make me hurt you. Lie. Back.”

There are other battles to fight and a war to ultimately win.

So Jared lays back against the pillows, tells himself this is no different than a doctor’s appointment. He needs to realize that the reality of he and Jensen is cold and clinical. This feeling has to be held on to so that he doesn’t get taken in by the glimpses of a person he can see behind those hardened eyes.

“Open your legs.”

“I’m not letting you fuck me—“

“Contrary to your inflated ego, I’ve had much better tail than what you offer. I don’t need or even want to fuck you.” Jensen snipes. “But you have your end of the bargain to fulfill, and I’m making sure you do. Spread them, sweetheart; you know you want to.”

There’s nothing left to do but come clean or spread them. He chooses the latter.

Without preamble, slick fingers press against his furled hole and Jared bites his lip to keep from reacting. Jensen doesn’t plunge in as he expects, but prolongs it. Jensen is opening him up slowly, pushing his come up inside of Jared as he goes, moving in deep with his index and middle finger. It’s erotic and arousing, and Jared can’t stop himself from reacting even when Jensen smirks down at him knowingly and rubs two fingers hard against his prostate.

By the time Jensen’s through, Jared’s sweaty, flushed and his lips bitten painfully red. He’s always loved being fingered, Jensen knows that. He must remember how it was when they were together before, Jared sprawled loose and plaint across his lap, lips swollen from his kisses and ass tight around his fingers.

His dick is completely hard and smearing clear precome across his abs.

Lightly, Jensen runs a finger over the swollen shaft, following the vein to the sensitive underside. He’s open and wet, body aching for something only Jensen can give.

Jensen trails his finger back down to his opening.

Jared gasps, hips jerking of their own accord.

“Sleep well, Jared.” Jensen breathes the words against his damp skin, getting dressed in the same clothes he discarded earlier. “I think I’ll spend the night at Kristin’s.”

-

“That was quick.”

“Well, you said you had something good. Where is it?” Impatient, Chace walks inside the apartment, taking his hands out of his jacket pocket. There are boxes lining the wall in the living room. “Going somewhere?”

“It’s Will’s stuff.” Ben shuts the door behind him and walks over to the couch where a large manila envelope is sitting. He hands it over to Chace and sits down. “Will’s inside guy, Hadley, dropped this off tonight. I looked over it before calling you and if it’s true, it’s insane.”

“Why was Hadley looking into anything to begin with?”

“Jensen asked him to; must’ve been suspicious about something. Hell, what do any of us really know about Jared when he was married? ”

Apprehensive, Chace opens the envelope and slides out the first sheet of paper; a medical report. He scans it briefly. “This Sal’s?”

Ben nods. “Guy was stabbed over seventy times—a messy hit if you ask me.”

There are plenty of stories about the man; Sal was known as a charming Casanova with a sadistic streak a mile long. At least before Jared. “Why would the family hide this? Word was a heart attack or some other shit. If this is true, wouldn’t they want revenge on whoever sliced their kid like a Christmas goose?”

“Look again.”

Frowning, Chace thumbs through the file, only to find a second report. “Another autopsy? Suicide?!”

“Hadley thinks that this was the one given to the family. It makes sense because a suicide is something Cortese would hide.” Ben walks up behind him to point to the precise handwriting at the bottom. “And look who just happened to be the M.E. on hand.”

“Dr. Clarence Miles.”

“ _Doctor fucking Miles_.”

“But why the two autopsies?”

“Even the Good Doctor needs insurance in case things go south.”

This information, if given to the Corteses would eliminate Jared for good and Chace wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Vincent would be honor bound to avenge his only son’s death and Jared wouldn’t be shown any mercy.

Mafia cannibalism.

“Jared, you have been a very bad boy.” Chace grins slowly; imagining al the horrible ways the bitch could die. This has gone better than he ever dreamed. “We need to get this information in the right hands. The sooner he knows, the quicker he’ll close in.”

Ben stops him, grabbing Chace’s hand. “There’s something else. Hadley found a birth certificate in the file.”

“So?”

“So.” Ben shuffles the papers around, bringing the last page to the front. “Look at the date on it.”

Chace’s blood runs cold, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Like shit it means nothing.” Ben jabs a finger down on the page, hard enough that it flutters to the floor. “That kid has got to be Jared’s, and if I’m right about that, it means that the Boss’s--”

“That baby was aborted; the Padalecki bitch flushed it out to fit into his wedding suit. Jensen knows that. Everyone knows that.”

“Just like everyone knows Salvatore died from a heart attack.”

“Even if…even if he had the kid; it’s not making sense. Jared would’ve said something by now. He would’ve…” Chace searches wildly for explanations until he lands on the plausible one. “The kid is dead; stillbirth or SIDS or something. So it means nothing.”

“Then where’s the death certificate?”

“What the fuck does that have to do with us?”

Ben waves the folder at him “This Dr. Miles, he’s playing both fields. He’s a friend of Cortese but in bed with Carmine. If Miles fabricated the autopsy to protect Jared—likely on Carmine’s order-- it makes me wonder what else he’d do if Carmine asked.”

“Since when do you fucking care?!” Chace explodes, his pans are unraveling. “All this bullshit doesn’t change anything.”

“No death certificate, Chace.” Ben repeats, with a hard stare. “If there’s something in these files that I’m missing, something the Boss needs to know; I’m going to find it. Will would want that.”

_Fuck Will._

_Fuck Ben._

“The kid could still be alive.” Ben says what they’re both thinking.

“You think Carmine faked his grandson’s death?” Will asks disbelievingly. “Do you know how crazy that is? No father would do that to their son!”

“Carmine would.”

-

Tired and irritable from the uncomfortable night spent in Kristin’s spare bed, Jensen heads for the kitchen straightaway. He runs into his mother on the way. Predictably, his mother sees him for two seconds and already zeros in on the minute scratch.

“JR, what happened?” She’s acting like he stumbled into the kitchen bleeding to death. She of all people knows that he can handle much more; she’s seen him beaten bloody by Patrick on more than one occasion.

This overreaction may be her way of dealing with not doing anything to help when he actually needed a mother.

“Nothing.” Jensen pulls out her chair and walks over to the coffee carafe. Someone has made sure he had freshly brewed coffee. He can hear the whir of the treadmill going upstairs and knows Jared is the one on it. “Nicked myself shaving this morning.”

Behind his mother, J.D. is suppressing a laugh. Jensen had asked him to sweep the room for weapons after Jared left for the Clinic.

Jensen pours them both a cup of coffee; resolutely pushing thoughts of Jared’s aroused and flushed face out of his thoughts.

Last night something had shifted between them, even more so than the night of Will’s funeral. That night, with Jared’s lips on his, slightly chapped and sweetly demanding, he’d been brought to his knees, every weakness he works so hard to hide exposed.

The line of captor and captive is steadily blurring. Despite Matt’s pensive glances and J.D.’s knowing ones, he can’t get a steady hold on reality. He’s slipping.

“Something wrong, honey?”

“Nothing, Mom.” Jensen rips open a packet of sugar for her. “Where do you want to go for breakfast today?”

“I could cook--”

“Mom, it’s a _vacation_.”

“Anywhere you want; I don’t know any restaurants around here. Although, I think somewhere near Central Park would be nice. Rosie mentioned that she wanted to see Bethesda Fountain, you know, the one from _When Harry Met Sally_.”

At the tourist trap, Jensen winces and groans inwardly. Security is going to be a bitch. “Is she even old enough to be watching movies like that?”

“I’m fifteen!” There's an indignant squawk behind him. Rose stomps into the kitchen, fully dressed for her activity day of horrors in jeans and a red tank top. Her blonde hair is left loose around her shoulders, hanging nearly to her waist in waves. “That’s young adult.”

“Okay young adult, why don’t you go upstairs, wipe off that lipstick and we’ll call it even?”

“Mom!”

“Jensen,” Meredith doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s only lip gloss and it’s appropriate; leave your sister alone.”

Rose smiles at him haughtily and Jensen reaches over to tweak her nose. She’d been a kid when he left, more of a nuisance that clung to his leg than anything else. After he’d gone back to Texas and gave Patrick his last lesson, Jensen didn’t stick around. He’d missed a lot of her growing up. Jensen thinks that must be how she became a sweet, polite girl.

Because of Jensen she had a childhood. She didn’t have to worry about the sting of the belt coming down over her back. Unlike him, she always had more than enough food, warm clothes and shelter.

She’s everything good that he has left.

Jensen ruffles her hair and she swats at him, blushing when Matt walks into the kitchen wearing a tight black shirt and slacks. No one can miss the huge crush she has on Mattie. Jensen’s sure she’d be horrified to know her heartthrob bends over for J.D.’s cock on the regular.

“Jensen,” Rose shoves him away, evading the brief hug. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“I know.” Jensen hooks and arm around her and presses a spontaneous kiss to her the top of her head. “How about we head down to Central Park after breakfast?”

-

Two pictures emerge of Jensen during the time Meredith and Rose stay in New York.

The light and the dark.

With his family, Jensen is open and calm. Even though he’s not a part of whatever they’re doing, Jared hears their voices echoing from downstairs late into the night. They’re always laughing and teasing one another. Sometimes Matt joins them or worse, Chace, but more often than not it’s the three remaining Ackles.

The forced dinners Jared used to resent disappear entirely, instead Jensen takes his family out to various restaurants all over the city and Jared eats lousy takeout in the bedroom alone or grabs lousy food with Chad. He doesn’t want to be a part of it, that doesn’t make sense, but he resents it.

Why should Jensen be happy when he’s in constant turmoil?

Why should Jensen be happy without him?

Like the liar he’s proven to be, every morning Jensen gets dressed in some suit, grabs a briefcase like he’s fuckin Mr. Rogers and visits one of his businesses. Meredith must think he’s gone straight. She’s either willfully blind or incredibly stupid. Jared thinks it’s the former. From what he knows of Meredith, she’ll believe just about anything if it makes Jensen happy.

In that way they’re the same.

Meredith and Rose’s Jensen is genial, quick with a joke and full of mirth. He reminds Jared of the man who brought him caramel macchiatos at six in the morning because he knew how much he loved the sugary treats, the man who sat silent during a Mets game even though it must have been killing him to say something snide as a Yankees fan. The man Jared fell for. The man who’s gone.

The other Jensen is the dark cloud Jared’s familiar with.

He’s devious and conniving. He operates a trade of drugs and death while his mother bakes chocolate chip cookies two doors down.

There’s a reason why the Ackles organization has become known as one of the most violent and volatile to ever hold the city. There are no second chances given; anyone who crosses Jensen doesn’t get an opportunity to do it twice.

Gen tells him Biloxi, a well-known supplier, was pulled out of the Hudson on Friday. The only thing left of him was his bloated torso. The police were only able to identify him by his leprechaun fucking a unicorn tattoo.

The hit has got Jensen’s signature all over it. He’s known for severing limbs. Jared wonders if this was done in connection to the drive by shooting and Will’s death.

Growing up, the name of the game had always been to keep a low profile. Not Jensen. He’s flashy, violent and loves for his mug to be plastered in the dailies. Jensen takes pride in being monitored by the FBI and DEA. He’s reckless, and unlike his predecessors, has no problem getting his hands dirty.

To commit a violent murder and then take your little sister to the mall is a bit much even for Jensen. But it’s what he does anyway.

Gen thinks that the Ackles are growing restless, that they’ll seek to punish him. She thinks he should run away and let war descend.

Jared doesn’t leave.  
-

“Why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy?”

“I don’t.” Jared automatically denies. Meredith and Rose have been in the house for more than a week. Their presence sets him on edge and he has no idea why. “No one looks happy when they’re restocking the printer.”

“You’ve been in a funk since you walked in here.” Chad persists, buzzing around him like a fly. “Harley and Sadie are even subdued because they picked up on it.”

“So now you’re the dog whisperer.”

“I’ve seen enough episodes to be certified.”

“They’re fine.” Jared looks into his office when Harley and Sadie are sprawled out in their dog beds. Usually, they’d be outside, begging for a cuddle or free scratch from the visitors. “Loki has been terrorizing them. That inbred monster bit Sadie’s tail yesterday.”

Chad winces. “Rottweilers, man, gotta show their dominance.”

“I told J.D. not to take them out when the monster’s out on the prowl.”

Chad moves closer, expression fixed into that fake blasé look that something annoying. “So… how’s it going with you and Ackles? Good?”

“Smooth, Chad.” Jared mutters. “Real smooth.”

“Friends tell each other things, Jared. Man, I told you when I met that girl at Tonic and she suck--”

“Thanks; got all the horrible details the first time you told it.” Jared shuts the loading tray door of the cop machine and heads into the break room. Not to be deterred, Chad follows. “It’s fine.”

“It has to be more then fine. You were head over ass for him before everything went to shit. I want you to be happy again.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“Nah.” Chad shakes his head in disbelief and pops open a can of Pepsi. “I remember the first day when you came back from break. You were smiling ear to ear, looked like a fucking jack-o-lantern. That smile, man… it lit up the room. It said everything. You’re not smiling like that again.”

“I’m also no longer an air head teenager.”

“Never were an airhead, nerd.” Chad tsks. “And even then, with all my warnings about mobsters, I knew Jensen had to be pretty special to make you smile that way.”

Jared can remember that feeling, the warmth that spread over him and made him feel safe. “He was.”

Before Chad can say anything, the door opens with a slam.

“Unca Jay!”

Nicholas bursts into the back room, jumping up onto Jared’s legs. His mouth is stained red form a Popsicle and he’s holding a green stuffed animal up excitedly in his right hand.

Jared helps him up and picks him up for a hug. “Hey Nicky, what are you doing here?”

“Mama.” Nicky responds like that explains everything.

Just beyond the doorway Jared can see Gen talking to Kevin and cooing over his baby. Gen catches his eyes and waves.

Jared groans inwardly. He can see by her strained smile that she’s come to urge him to leave in person. She's been speaking to his father too much, he can hear Carmine's voice in her ear. But Jared’s made up his mind, at least for now, with the recent deaths, it’s important to hold on to what little promise of peace he has.

-

“There.” Ben parks the car across the street from a brownstone. It’s unremarkable, sandwiched between two buildings in a residential street. There are kids playing on the sidewalk with bikes and street chalk. “That’s it.”

“How did you find this place?”

“Hadley.” Ben puts on his sunglasses, brown hair catching the sunlight. He looks much better than he did after Will’s death. His obsession with Will’s file seems to be helping him grieve. Chace hasn’t seen him take a drink all day. Shit. “He’s pure gold.”

“Did he say he found a kid?”

“No way to be sure, not really.” Ben reaches for the car door and Chace grabs his hand.

“Wait! You’re not going to just walk into those people’s house, are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“They’ll call the cops.”

“They won’t.” Ben shakes him off and steps out of the Mercedes. The children are noticing them now. Some of the older ones are peering at them curiously but mostly they want to see the car. “Read the sign, Einstein.”

“Saint Francis’ Home for Boys.”

Chace stands outside dumbly for a few moments, trying to figure out exactly what the fuck he’s doing here with Ben. He feels sick. This is growing into something he wants no part of. It’s of no benefit for him if Will’s suspicions are true. Jensen’s hate is based on the abortion, if the abortion never happened then everything changes.

Worse, if their child is alive.

“Come on.” Ben yells back to him, he’s already at the door.

Ben is single-minded and determined.

Chace trails him into the cramped main hallway; listens to him speak to the matronly woman at the front office.

“I’m detective Luther Barnes.” Ben flashes falsified credentials at the woman. “And this is my partner. We’re looking for a child who was sent here seven years ago. His name may have been listed as Jonathan Furillo.”

Please let there be no record.

Please let this all be a figment of Ben’s obsessed delusion.

“We do.” The woman tells them reluctantly. She looks from Ben to Will warily. “But Jonathan is a good boy, quiet and shy.”

Triumph makes Ben’s face flush in victory. “We need to see him.”

“I…” It’s clear she wants to protect her young charge. “I’m sorry, but I c-can’t do that.”

Ben holds up his badge once more, thumping it on the woman’s chest in harsh warning. “Do I need to remind you who you’re speaking it? It’s a felony to obstruct a federal investigation. Get the boy, now.”

Five minutes later, Chace is standing weak kneed next to Ben as a small boy is led down the front stairs; hand held tight in the receptionist’s slim hand. He’s tiny, looks nearer to five than seven, with a mess of dark blonde curls and freckles.

The breath leaves Chace in a rush, leaving him dizzy.

It’s like he’s looking at Jensen.

There’s no denying who this is and what this means.

“Holy shit.” Ben says next to him as the pair comes closer. With every step, Chace can see his future dying. “I was right. Will was right.”

Chace looks at Ben; he’s going to have to kill him.

-


	12. The World I Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> Some violence in this chapter, minor--don't hate me!
> 
> will write a coherent a/n tomorrow; too tired now
> 
> Happy Reading
> 
> XC

  
Has all kindness gone?  
Hope still lingers on.  
I drink myself of newfound pity  
Sitting alone in New York City  
And I don't know why.

The World I Know | Collective Soul  
-

Few things in Chace’s life have left him shaken. He’s always been driven, refusing to shy away from conflict of any kind even as a child. He appreciates that same strength in others. It’s what attracted him to Jensen.

A man like that, whose very aura drew in those around him, is someone he wants to _consume_.

The unpleasant aspects of the underworld don’t faze him.  Chace knows his parents spend sleepless nights huddled under their Egyptian cotton sheets worried to death but he’s never been scared, and he's never been better.

Over the months, he’s seen acts that should only occur in horror films; he knows the dry snap of bone breaking and the way a man’s pupils dilate beautifully to black after drawing his last breath.

Chace has never been afraid before.

But he is now.

This boy, not even forty pounds, has left him shaken.

_Jonathan is the end of everything he‘s planned for._

Ben is staring down at the child like he’s the second coming. Any thoughts of eliminating Jared have been put out of his mind. Most likely for good. 

Ben kneels down until he’s level with the little boy‘s eyes.

As soon as he does this, the kid ducks behind the woman’s leg, hand clutching her plaid skirt tight.

“Easy, we’re not going to hurt you.” Ben promises him with an earnest smile, but the kid doesn’t stop hiding. All they can see is the top of his curly, blonde head. “We need to ask you some questions.”

“I’m sorry, but what could he possibly have to do with a federal investigation?” The woman intrudes, placing a hand on the trembling boy’s head. “This is getting _preposterous_. The poor boy is scared to death!”

“Miss…?" Ben glares at her until she looks suitably intimidated. “What is your name?”

“Samantha Smith.”

“Ms. _Smith_ ,” Ben sneers. “I need you to cooperate with me. This will all be over  much more quickly if you realize that the FBI is not the enemy.”

Ms. Smith presses her lips together in a thin line and shuts up.

For a moment, Chace thinks that she’ll insist they leave, call the police maybe, but the hostility softens to something else and his hope evaporates.

“Jonny.” Comfortingly, she pulls away Jonathan’s hands, making him stand apart and on his own. She rubs her hands down his shoulders. “These two gentleman standing in front of you? They’re the good guys, like in cops and robbers. Or--The Avengers!”

At her encouragement, Jonathan peers up at them for the first time, clear green eyes lighting up in childish admiration. They’re undeniably Jensen’s eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes and overly large in his small face.

“Don’t worry.” Ms. Smith tells them like they care. “We only let the children watch the version with no swear words.”

When Chace looks back at him, Jonathan hastily ducks his head once more, staring at his sneakers. They’re cheap shoes, decals of the superheroes on the side peeling.

“Spiderman is a close and personal friend of ours.” Ben whispers.

“Really?” Jonathan is all but bouncing on his heels. “Do you know Iron Man?”

Ms. Smith smiles when Ben nods. “And guess what? They want to talk to you and ask you questions because of how well you did on your Hero report last week.”

The boy looks at them again, and beams, Jared’s dimples at his cheeks as he displays two missing teeth. “ _Wow_.”

“Wow, indeed.” Ben smiles back, seemingly pleased. “What’s your name?”

“Jonny.” He corrects himself. “ _Jonathan_.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jonny. I’m Special Officer Luther, and I’m working a very important case.”

“Can I help?”

“Sure you can.” Ben stands, and looks at him with mock seriousness. “Your mission, if you should choose to accept it, is to show me to your room.”

Jonathan okays enthusiastically and then takes off at a run down the hallway.

Ms. Smith laughs nervously behind him. “He gets so excited.”

The next half hour is spent looking at the boy’s meager belongings. He shares a small room with three other boys. The room is painted blue and contains two bunk beds which take up most of the space.  A ceiling fan spins lazily, circulating warm air.  Jonathan's bed is the bottom bunk near the window, a fact that he’s oddly proud of. It's made up neatly in green blankets, school primers stacked at the foot. An old red teddy bear and plastic iron man sit in front of the pillow.

Chace begins to lose patience the moment they cross the threshold. 

Finally in the middle of a story involving the red stuffed bear, Ben tells the kid they have to go. They’re nearly to the door when Ben stops so abruptly Chace runs into his back.

“One more question, Champ.” Ben says. “Has anyone ever visited you here?”

The bashfulness returns. “ _Sometimes_.”

“Who?”

“Dunno.” Jonathan wrinkles his nose in thought. He looks so much like Jensen then and Chace feels a wave of pure hate for the child. “My friend.”

Ms. Smith looks uncomfortable. “We partner with the Big Brother program; it provides the boys with positive influences and gets them away from the school for a bit. It‘s important for their development.”

“No, not them. My Friend.” Jonathan interrupts, he grabs the bear. “My friend gave me this and takes me to the park. I like the park. We get ice cream and play on the swings, _but not too high_. I don’t like it when I swing too high. We don’t go there a lot though.”

Worrying his lip in thought, Ben takes out his cell phone and swipes through photographs. When he lands on the one he’s been seeking, he holds the phone out. “Is this your friend?”

The picture of Carmine is from Jared’s wedding day. The old man is facing the camera, eyes dark and mouth curled into his signature sardonic smile. Chace can see Salvatore in the background, arms clasped around Jared’s waist as they come down the church steps through the crowd of waiting well-wishers.

Jonathan looks at the cell phone photo pensively and then jumps up and down in excitement, pointing. “Yes, there’s my friend!”

Ben’s face goes slack with disbelief, and Chace’s mind immediately begins to work; Jonathan isn’t pointing at Carmine.

-

“Someone needs to start talking. _Right_ _now_.” Although she says that, Meredith continues to stare at Jared mesmerized. She looks like she’s seeing a ghost. She probably thinks she is. “Because you’re dead. _Jensen told me_ you were dead.”

It’s not Jared’s place to say anything so Jared looks at Jensen. This is his shit storm, he’ll be damned if he’s the one who starts talking. Jared lets the silence drag on.

“He’s not dead.” Jensen finally states, always the bright one. “I lied.”

“Why in the world would you do something like that?” Meredith yells. “I _cried_ for that boy; I cried for you!”

Jensen‘s jaw tightens. “I had my reasons.’

“But the accident, you were covered in injuries and--”

“Mom, we need to speak outside.”

“ _You_!” An idea must form in her mind because Meredith unexpectedly turns on Jared. She ignores Jensen, barreling further inside until she’s standing above Jared like an avenging angel. “What did you do to my son?”

The concern has been eclipsed by fury.

Jared expected this.

“You should ask Jensen.” Jared meets her eyes . He doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of. “I’m not the one you should be angry with.”

“Just shut up.” Jensen growls at Jared. He grabs his mother by the elbow and steers her out of the room. When she tries to protest, Jensen‘s expression shutters, the mood shifting into something dark. This isn’t the sunshine she‘s known since her arrival. “Outside.”

-

Jensen keeps it brief. He tells himself it’s for his mother’s benefit but he knows he’s lying. Every time he remembers, the carefully built armor threatens to crack. He’d thought with this plan, with his revenge, it would be enough.

It’s proving not to be.

With each passing day his control slips.

By the time Jensen finishes speaking his mother is as white as a sheet, eyes threatening to spill tears. She opens her mouth to speak but a gargled sound comes out instead. Her hands fly over her lips to stop the words that can’t come out right.

“Don’t cry for me.”

The tears fall, and his mother wipes them away. “I’m not.”

Jensen stands astonished as she walks past him and re-enters the bedroom they just vacated.

-

  
Jared’s not expecting anyone to come back for him. He’s swallowing his birth control pill when the door knob turn. Meredith is back; most likely to tear into him.

Like Mother, like son.

Putting the glass of water down, Jared turns to face her, leaning back against the wall as he crosses his hands over his chest defensively.

“Jensen told me some things.” Meredith begins, her voice quivering. “And I want you to know….” The words seem hard for her and Jared is confused. “I’m so sorry.”

Jared’s speechless.

“You… when you were at the ranch.” She’s crying openly now. “I don’t know how I can see it, and Jensen not.” She takes a step towards him and Jared finds himself raising his hands reflexively to ward her off. He doesn’t know why he’s afraid, feels like he’s been pushed to the brink. “I made you Shepherd’s Pie, remember?” Jared nods mutely. “Well, I couldn’t sleep that night. So I took a walk…”

_It’s unusually cool for August, the midnight wind biting through Meredith’s thin cashmere sweater. She looks up at the bright moon, smiling despite the painful heart burn.  Jensen looked so happy today; she never thought she’d be able to see her son smile like that._

_From the time he was a child, Jensen’s life has been difficult. Try as she might, Meredith had been no match for Patrick. She couldn’t protect her boy but never stopped trying, heart ripping in two when Patrick tore into him. He grew into a child she didn't recognize, couldn't connect with.  
_

_Even with Patrick dead and buried, Jensen remained that way;  cold and distant. When he left home, Meredith hadn’t even been sure she’d ever see him again. She thought he’d be unhappy and withdrawn forever. Meredith is thrilled to learn that she was wrong._

_Jared Padalecki, faults and all, has made her son into a living breathing, feeling person. He’s flourishing again. He’s expecting a baby and dreaming of marriage.  
_

_With a silent prayer of thanks, Meredith heads back towards the house. She pauses when she hears a voice.  Jared is sitting out on the porch swing, wrapped in a plaid afghan. His head is bent and he’s singing ._

_Meredith smiles, he’s singing quite **badly**._

_She knows the song, one from her hay day: Bachman Turner Overdrive “You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet”. Jared is butchering it to kingdom come while his hand sits over his undetectable belly._

_It’s a sweet moment and Meredith moves forward to let her presence known, but before she can, Jared stops singing and begins talking._

_“I think you’d like it here; lots of open space, horses, starry skies and everyone in town seems real friendly… You don’t see the stars like this, not in the city.” Jared sighs, stroking his little bump. She frowns; the boy looks like something is weighing heavily on his mind. “We have to convince your Daddy to take us back here once we tell Grandpa about you.”_

_Jared kicks his right foot out, setting the swing in motion._

_“Your Daddy is afraid…he doesn’t think I can see it, but it’s there…to tell you the truth, peanut, I’m scared too. But I’m going to promise you something: I will always protect you and Daddy; I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I swear.”_

_At the words, Meredith frowns._

_Someone so young, at the beginning of the rest of his life, shouldn’t have so much on their mind._

_The singing begins again, this time Whitesnake’s “Is this Love?” and Meredith slips back inside undetected._

By the time Meredith finishes recapping that evening long ago, Jared’s biting his lip so hard he tastes blood. The memory of that evening hurts like a reopened wound. He can remember that night so sharply, taste the sweetgrass in the air and feel the warmth of his skin beneath his palm. Noah.

“Jensen told me that you got an abortion, that you decided he and a child were a mistake. That image that he presented of you… it‘s **nothing** like what I saw that night…No one is that good of an actor. No one.  I saw a lot of you that weekend, different sides, but never once did I think you were deceiving my family or my son.”

Jared swallows painfully, heart beating like a trapped bird in his chest as she looks at him with compassion in her eyes.

That look in her eyes can come only from a similar experience.

“I’ll ask you once and then never again, because the truth is nothing you owe: Did your father force you into a termination?”

That was the original offer; either Jared have the abortion or Jensen be killed.

But, his father had conceded. Jared would be able to give birth to his child as long as Jensen was told the pregnancy was terminated. The Cortese family was persuaded to accept the baby as theirs. Jared would go into hiding for close to a year, and then return to New York with an infant he would present as Sal’s.

The whole thing was orchestrated to be swept under the rug.

Reality differed greatly from the plan Jared agreed to.

_Jared’s nearly asleep when he feels the bed dip bedside him. He can smell Sal’s cologne, heavy and overpowering. The nausea from his pregnancy is still lingering and his husband’s scent turns his stomach._

_Hands run down his side, squeezing at his hip. Jared‘s stomach clenches. Salvatore’s been pushing him for months but he can’t do it. Every time Sal touches him he wants to scream. It’s wrong because it’s not Jensen; he’s only ever been with Jensen and he doesn’t want anyone else._

_When Sal‘s hand drifts down the dip of his back to his ass, Jared stops pretending to be asleep. “Stop.”_

_“C’mon, Jay.” Sal sounds like a petulant child being denied his favorite toy._

_“I said no.” Jared slaps his hand off of him, coming to his knees. “If you’re horny, take it somewhere else.”_

_Salvatore’s dark eyes greet him with rage. “You’re my husband.”_

_“Who just gave birth.”_

_“To another man’s child, which I **agreed** to raise. Do I not get something for that? I’ve been more than patient with you Jared, **it’s been months**. It’s time for you to perform your duties. The doctor says you‘re entirely healed.”_

_Salvatore speaks of his son’s passing like it’s nothing but an inconvenience. He can’t believe he ever thought Salvatore was compassionate; it was all a ruse._

_“This time you’ll have my child, the baby you should’ve had all along.”_

_When Sal touches him, Jared shoves him. Hard.“Get out, you piece of shit.”_

_The blow is unexpected._ _The edge of his square wedding ring strikes Jared’s cheekbone, breaking the skin and sending hot pain spreading through his face in radiating waves._

_“Get the fuck out. Now.” Blinking away the rush of tears, Jared wipes the blood from his busted face. “Before I cut off your dick.”_

_Breathing heavily, Sal gets off the bed. Jared thinks he’s leaving but he’s wrong. He turns on Jared once more, hatred pouring out in every word._

_“You had no problem carrying your bastard, did you?”_

_The shock is wearing off and every instinct in Jared wants a fight. He doesn’t back down. “Shut your mouth.”_

_“I’ve been playing the fool, marrying soiled goods like you--”_

_“I’m warning you!”_

_“You are warning me? You forget who‘s house you’re in, who you belong to. I give and I take away, Jared, you‘re going to learn that. I‘m through coddling you.”_

_“I will **never** have your child.”_

_Salvatore’s eyes look black under the fluorescent light, his lips curling into a sneer. “Jason.”_

_The burly man comes into the bedroom, Kevin following._

_“Restrain him.”_

_When Jason advances Jared squares up. He knows it’s a fight he’ll lose but he’ll knock out some of his aggression before he’s forced to comply._

_It’s quick and brutal; Jason bleeding profusely from the nose by the time it’s over. Jared finds both of his hands secured behind his back. He’s well and truly trapped._

_“Feel like a big man, Sal?” Jared spits blood out at his feet. “Always needed someone to do things for you.”_

_The other man is unphased. “You see, Jared, I can have you whenever I want, if I wanted. You‘d be pregnant within a month’s time.”_

_“I’d flush it out.”_

_Sal leans down, words hot against his cheek. His voice is low, barely above a whisper. “The way I flushed out yours?”_

_The air is sucked out of his lungs and the room tilts. Jared stumbles and he’s certain he’d fall to his knees if Kevin wasn’t holding him up._

_“And you play at being so smart.” Salvatore chuckles darkly. “It was simple really, crushed the pills and load it into that disgusting tea you were always sipping. But did the thing die? No. He was a fighter… fought all the way through until I put a pillow over his face.”_

_The world splinters into a million shards that slice through Jared, cut him into shreds._

_Salvatore’s hands move to undo his belt, he’s excited as he pulls down his briefs._

_Jared’s vision blurs and he’s dry heaving, bile rising to fall over his chin and stain the floor. He can’t breathe his throat constricting._

_The grief overwhelms him and obliterates everything around him._

“I chose.” Jared speaks simply, divulging nothing more. “I made my choice.”

“What was the choice?”

“The baby…” Jared’s held out for months in the face of cruelty, but it’s her kindness that breaks him. “It was the baby or…”

“Oh, Jared.” Meredith sucks in a breath of dismay. She‘s moving before he can think to move away, enveloping him in a hug. She smells like perfume and cinnamon, the top of her hair ticking his nostrils. It‘s a motherly hug, the sort filled with comfort and lullabies. “Why…why didn’t you--”

“Tell Jensen?” Jared pulls back, feeling a deep cold settle in his bones at the loss of her touch. “He wouldn’t believe me anyway. He made up his mind about me years ago.”

“You’re here, aren’t you? Jensen is drawn to you--”

Her naiveté makes him laugh. “I’m not here because he wants me; I’m here to make sure that we can have  peace.”

Meredith furrows her brow. “Peace?”

“Don’t concern yourself over anything that has to do with me.” Giving himself a mental shake, Jared inclines his head to the door. “I’m going to be fine, I’m always fine.”

“But--”

“You should go back to Jensen; he’s going to be pissed.”

“That doesn’t frighten me, I’m his mother.”

“It should; the Jensen out there isn’t your son.”

-

“---that’s enough!” J.D. grabs Jensen's shoulder, pulling him back. “It’s enough already.”

The haze lifts and the stinging at his knuckles blossoms into a burn. He’s fighting to find his breath and the man tied to the chair is unrecognizable. His face has started to swell, eyes swollen shut and lips split.

“Is he alive?”

Jensen had lost control. The moment he’d began interrogating the man, he’d let his emotions take over.

Matt touches his fingers to Louis’ neck, and then shakes his head.

“Shit.”

The man had been their only lead on the drive by. The only way to know if Carmine had been the one to order the hit. He’d ruined it.

Jensen wipes his blood splattered hand on a handkerchief handed to him by J.D. “Take care of the body.”

The men in the room shift on their feet uncomfortably.

It’s what Will would usually do; mixing chemicals with the glee of a mad scientist before sawing the body to pieces and dumping them into a steel drum.

“Jensen.” J.D. begins but stops talking when he meets Jensen’s eyes.

Jensen knows what he must see reflected there. J.D. turns away and Matt diplomatically steps between them.

“You need a drink.” Matt says quietly, steering him towards the bathroom door. “Wash off and we’ll go blow off steam.”

The bathroom door closes behind him and Jensen walks over to the sink, turning the faucets on to hot. He washes away the crusted blood, watching the swirl of red disappear down the rusted drain. He looks up into the small mirror and his own reflection is unrecognizable. He looks like a madman, blood streaking his face and sweat flattening his hair to his skull.

Jensen laughs, and once he starts, he can’t stop.

-

  
The walk back to the car is silent.

Chace has too much to figure out, and too little time to do it.

“We should get the sample analyzed tonight.” Ben says as he gets into the car. “I want to dot all my I’s and cross my T’s before I tell Jensen about this kid.”

“What sample?”

“Got some of his hair.” Ben dangles the plastic baggie in front of Chace’s face before opening the glove box and throwing it inside. “It’s how Will would’ve been; meticulous. I don‘t want to go in front of the Boss half-cocked.”

Chace is sick of hearing Will’s name.

“Although.” Ben starts the car and pulls away from the curb. “With Genevieve Cortese visiting the kid, that’s proof enough.”

Chace doesn’t respond, already lost in thought. He knows from experience that Ben will rush this job. That means he has roughly a twenty four hour window to set this right.

“You can’t go to Jensen without irrefutable poof.”

“I know.” Ben agrees. “I called Hadley, he’s coming by my place tonight.”

“I’ll wait with you.”

  
-

Jared wakes up to his own moans in his ears and tight, wet suction around his dick. His eyes fly open and in the weak dawn light he can see Jensen laying between his spread legs, hands griping his ankles up and apart.

“Jensen.” Jared says his name on a shaky exhale, shuddering as pleasure wracks through every cell of his body. He’s aroused but cautious at the same time. “Wha?”

Jensen doesn’t do things like this, and he _definitely_ doesn’t do things like this with Jared. There must be something coming, something terrible but right now Jared doesn’t care. If Jensen’s willing to pretend, if even for a little while; Jared will take it.

Demanding, Jared lifts his hips, testing Jensen’s limits as he pushes deep into his mouth and throat. Jensen doesn’t restrain him, rides the thrusts easily, and _oh god, he’s fucking Jensen’s mouth_ ; sliding between those plush, pink lips and being sucked so good.

Jensen pulls off slowly, licking over the tip of his cock one last time before kissing up Jared’s body. Jared goes still when Jensen reaches his chin, tongue tracking up to his bottom lip. They stare at one another and Jared smells it then, whiskey.

Jensen is drunk off his ass.

“I’m going to kiss you…“ Jensen promises, words slurring as he stares down at Jared’s mouth like a starving man. “Then I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

It should matter that Jensen’s drunk, Jared should resist.

It doesn’t and he doesn’t.

Jared groans his submission, one hand moving to the back of Jensen’s head to pull him forward insatiably. The first clash of their lips is pure heat. Jared’s missed and craved the taste of Jensen for so long. Their tongues battle for dominance, chasing and retreating, sucking and gentling. He wants more, needs more and Jensen gives everything to him. No one has ever kissed him the way Jensen does, with complete possession and electricity.

They’re still kissing, mouths angling and sparring when Jensen raises up enough to undo his belt and pull his cock through the vee opening.

“Yeah“ Jared gasp when he feels the blunt head against his entrance, he lifts his hips. “God. yes.” He’s reduced to a begging mess and Jensen loves it, nipping at his mouth as he pleads.

“Good, it’s good, isn’t it?” Eyes dilated with arousal, Jensen scrambles for lube, squirts a generous amount over his dick as he jerks himself off. “Open those long legs for me, baby.”

Jared moans plaintively when Jensen begins to push in, his hips rising as he imagines Jensen fulfilling his promise. Jensen dips his head, sucks kisses into his skin and he groans. Jared matches him thrust for thrust, he can’t keep his voice down, and it’s so intense like this. Gone is the impersonal touch and he’s overwhelmed by the feelings of what once was.

It had been so long since Jared had this, could at least pretend. He drinks it in like the desert takes the rain. Jensen moving over him, eyes shut and lashes curving over his cheeks. Sweat beads at his brow, gathering at the small of his back where Jared’s blunt finger nails are leaving scour marks.

Above him Jensen’s murmuring praise, saying how good he is, how tight and fucking silky-- Jared can feel his orgasm roaring down on him. He wants it to last but even as the thought crosses his mind, he comes like a rocket, spurting between them and tightening down on Jensen’s cock inside him.

Jensen continues fucking him in deep and long strokes through it.

It’s too much. Jared starts to sob, cries growing progressively louder as the headboard begins to hit the wall in a conspicuous rhythm. Jared drags Jensen down to him once more, kissing the mouth that’s been taunting him, hurting him since he made this damned deal.

"Shhh…know you can give me more, can take more..."

Jensen knows how to push every button of his, knows how to drive him to the edge over and over again. Jared gives himself over to the sensation entirely and spreads his legs further apart silently asking for more.

"Please... please..." Jared cries low in his throat, peppering kisses over Jensen’s mouth. “God, please... fuck me... Don‘t stop..."

Jensen rears back, pulling Jared up over his lap. He can feel every inch of him inside his body, flexes around the thick shaft prying his pliant body open. Jared shivers, startling when Jensen slaps his ass.

That’s his cue to move, and Jared does just that, fighting through the drugging haze of orgasm to ride Jensen and break him in like a filly. Every moan he can pull from those lips is a triumph, and Jared chases that approval, rocking down on his cock and grinding in tight, aching circles.

The bruising grip Jensen has on his hips lets Jared know he’s close. He can feel his thighs trembling, and focuses on Jensen’s face.

Jared falters.

Jensen’s eyes are open, bright and extraordinarily green; fixed entirely him. It’s like they’re the only two people in the universe.

The feeling of Jensen emptying inside of him triggers his second climax. He comes on Jensen's stomach and chest, slumping forward as he tries to catch his breath even with Jensen kissing him desperately.

Half-heartedly, Jared pulls back, touching his swollen mouth and tasting the alcohol on his tongue. He wonders if Jensen will even remember this.

“You’re mine.” Jensen pants, eyes sliding closed. He pushes Jared backwards unto he bed, coming down on top of him heavily. “Mine… y’know that?”

Jensen’s snoring and Jared lays awake.

“I know.” Jared answers belatedly, staring up at the ceiling. “I know.”

-

“How’s the head?”

“Fuck off.” Jensen grabs the cup of coffee from J.D. hands. “Get the car ready and make sure Matt‘s in it.”

“I thought that much sex was supposed to improve your mood.” J.D. mutters.

The only reason Jensen doesn’t stab J.D. where he stands is because he’d have to let go of his coffee to do it.

Instead, Jensen settles for walking away in silence to the dining room.

The night before is coming in snatches, but judging by the razor burn he’s sporting and the come he woke caked in; he can put two and two together and realize he’d _fucked_. It’s apparent who. Jared is still asleep in his bed, covered in bites and bruises. His mouth is swollen, used.

 _Shit_.

It’s always a bad idea to mix whiskey and MDMA.

His mother and sister are eating cereal, the flatscreen playing cartoons. Meredith looks up when he comes into the room. There’s something different in her eyes when she looks at him. He dislikes it.

“We were supposed to go to a baseball game yesterday.” Rose complains, oblivious to the tension between them. “But you never showed so I had to watch Netflix instead which was _boring_.”

“I had a late meeting.” Jensen sits down across form his mother, watching her shift uneasily in her seat when he does. “Sleep well, Mother?”

“Slept just fine.”

“Can we at least go to a game today? You could get tickets, right?”

“I can get anything.” Jensen tells her decisively. He wonders what his mother and Jared talked about. She‘s looking at him like he‘s a caged tiger; something that‘s unpredictable; feared. Jensen looks back. “Anything I want.”

-

Nothing changes between them. Jared isn’t surprised but maybe he should be. He’d known that the night was just that: one night to pretend. He’d held Jensen with that in mind.

Love isn’t in the cards for them, not this time around and Jared isn’t here to try and plead his case. It’s bad enough that he told Meredith what he did in a moment of weakness.

With avoiding Jensen in mind, Jared feigns sleep when he returns to the bedroom. They both know Jared’s awake, he’s already showered and the sheets have been changed by Jensen’s discrete housekeeping staff. They both pretend.

It’s only when he hears the water running that Jared gets out of bed again.

Jared’s changing into a long sleeved Henley when he hears his phone vibrating from the pocket of his discarded jeans. Worried, he casts a look towards the bathroom door where Jensen is showering, but thankfully it looks like the noise has drowned out the sound.

The caller ID surprises him. “Dad?”

“Jared, how are you, son?”

Jared hasn‘t heard from his father in weeks; not since the shooting. “Why are you calling me?

“What sort of question is that? I wanted to check up on you.”

“I’ve been calling you for weeks.” Jared seethes, careful to keep his voice down. “Where you involved in the shooting? Did you ---”

“I didn’t call to talk business.”

“Listen to me: back off of Jensen. You have no idea what he’s capable of. He’ll stand down because of our agreement---”

“Your agreement?” Carmine hisses. “You mean you on your knees in public like a common whore? Do you know how humiliated I am? My son, the Ackles prostitute. Your mother is rolling in her grave. Everyone is laughing at us; you‘ve brought shame down on the family. ”

Jared flinches at the mention of his mom but keeps his voice firm. He’s made his bed and he’ll lie in it. There hadn’t been another way. “They’re all alive because of me.”

This is what his father does; he pretends to care when it suits him.

“Do you remember what you said to me, the night you murdered Salvatore?”

_You didn’t give me a way out._

Carmine doesn’t give him a chance to respond. “You told me I left you no choice, that I was just as guilty … as the man who smothered my grandson. I can‘t remain passive this time Jared, and I know you don‘t want me to.”

It’s a lie.

All of this.

This isn’t about him or a father wishing to protect his son. This is about his father’s pride; his image. It’s never been about Jared. It never will be.

“If you feel anything for me-- if you’re any kind of father-- you will leave us alone.” Jared ends the call abruptly, turning his cell phone off for good measure.

Feeling suffocated, Jared starts for the door. The dogs are on the roof and he could use the fresh air. Maybe J.D. will bend the rules and let him out on the rooftop. This is beginning to feel like a prison.

Jared opens the door and skids back a step. Loki is seated outside, teeth already bared. One of the guards, Steven Jared think is his name, starts to laugh.

“Some insurance.” Steve says slyly. “Just in case you get fresh.”

Loki looks two steps away from going into a frothing rage. Jared shuts the door and eyes the balcony. He knows he can get to the fire escape if he can walk the ledge. The thought leaves him as the shower turns off and he remembers what happened when he left without permission the first time. He’s tired of death.

Jensen comes out towel drying his hair. “Still here?”

Annoyed that Jensen is looking at him like he’s a nuisance, Jared glares. “Call off your gargoyle.”

Jensen walks over and opens the door.

The change is nothing short of miraculous. As soon as he spots his owner, Loki reverts into a puppy, barking excitedly and nudging Jensen’s legs with his nose. “What are you doing inside?”

Loki licks his fingers and Jensen pats his head once before walking into the closet.

The moment he does, Loki’s demeanor changes and he sits outside the closet doors, watching Jared menacingly.

Jensen emerges and Jared does a double take. He hasn’t seen Jensen in jeans since he arrived and damn, he wears them too fucking well. The Levis fit him in all the right places, and the dark Yankees cap and white tee shirt make for a mouthwatering view.

“Get dressed.” Jensen tells him. “We’re going to a baseball game.”

-

The day has been relaxing and that pisses Jensen off for reasons he doesn’t understand. He’d expected for things to be stilted, he’d wanted to show his mother that Jared was the sticking point. His plans have backfired. His Mother, Rose and Jared get along like a fucking house on fire.

Starting from the ride there, his mom and sister  peppered Jared with questions and remarkably, Jared doesn’t brush them off. He doesn’t start off forthcoming but as the day progresses, the conversation stops being stiff and dissolves into easy banter.

It reminds Jensen of the way they were before, when Rose was barely knee high and trailing after them on the ranch while they showed Jared around. Jensen wonders if she remembers that. She must, why else would she want to be near Jared?

The Yankees lose but Rose doesn’t care, too full of chili hotdogs and churros to complain.

“You should come out with us for dinner!” Rose exclaims as they pile back into the town car. “It’s my birthday celebration tonight.”

“We’d like that.” Meredith adds hopefully. “ If you’re not busy?” When Jared looks towards him, Meredith tsks. “It’s Rose’s birthday, and she would like you to join us. Yes or no?”

Jared’s eyes are filled with laughter, and this time he doesn’t look in Jensen’s direction. “Yes.”

-

“Where do you go every day?”

Jared pauses while shrugging into his leather jacket. He has the feeling Jensen doesn’t want him having any prolonged contact with his precious sister.

“Work.”

“Where do you work?”

“At a clinic.” Jared answers briskly, trying to walk away.

“What type of clinic?”

Jared stops when she moves to follow him outside. “Why all the questions, Nancy Drew?”

She shrugs, “I remember when you came by the house, and Jensen was all love-y dove-y with you. Plus, he told Ma that you died in the same car accident that nearly killed him.” Her green eyes run over him appraisingly. “Yet, here you are, all six foot four of you, in one piece. It’s like a real life mystery.”

“Don’t bother trying to solve it, it’s boring.”

“It’s like in _Days of Our Lives_ when Sonny and--”

“How old are you, Rose?”

“Fifteen and one day.”

“Too young to be watching that crap.”

“You were just three years older than me when you got knocked up and engaged.” Belatedly, she slaps a hand over her mouth, blood draining from her cheeks. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine.”

It’s not.

“I’m sorry I said that, I didn’t think.”

“You don’t need to walk on eggshells around.” Jared heads for the door, trying avoid Matthew who’s lurking by the stairs. “I know that you don’t mean anything by it.”

She smiles at him brightly, dimples deepening. “I like you so much better than Chace. I accidentally stepped on his tennis shoes and I could tell he was murdering me in his head.” She pats his back in solidarity. “Jensen will see that you’re so much better too, you’ll see.”

Jared nods, not bothering to correct her. She’s a kid and knows nothing of the real world; he won’t take that innocence from her.

-

The black box sitting atop the silk sheets makes Jared pause when he comes into the bedroom. The name etched in gold on the outside is of a well-known lingerie store. The thought that Jensen bought something trashy for Kristin or hell, Chace, makes his blood boil.

With thoughts of torching the thing, he lifts the lid, breath catching in his throat at the black lace.

It’s lingerie, specifically designed for men despite the lace.

A card sits atop: **Have this on for me when I get home.**

-

It’s cool in the room but Jared’s shiver has nothing to do with the elements.

“I knew you’d look good like this.” Jared watches Jensen’s tongue lick his lips as he surveys him slowly. “Strip.”

"What?"

"The stocking first, turn around and bend down slowly. ”

Jared takes a breath to steady himself, cheeks flaming with a now familiar mixture of embarrassment, self-disgust and sharp lust. He can feel Jensen’s eyes on his body, as real and hot as a touch. He bends down, keeping his back arched the way he knows Jensen wants him to as he slowly unrolls the gauzy silk. It’s humiliating and titillating all at once. He chances a look behind him, sees the molten heat of Jensen’s gaze as he stares, smoke curling from his burning cigarette.

The mirror behind him makes Jared pause. Jared can see himself, looking like a two bit whore, ass round and high, the intricate red lace cupping right beneath.

Jensen leans forward, elbows hitting his knees. “Did I say stop?”

Jared shakes his head, tossing the hose to the floor. He straightens, hands moving to the elastic band of the panties. He‘s growing hard, cock pushing and straining at the fabric..

“Take them off.”

Jared drags the lace under wear down and nearly forgets how to breathe when Jensen moves behind him, halting the lace right beneath his ass cheeks.

“Put your hands on the table.” Jensen whispers against the sensitive skin of his ear, making him shiver. “Bend over.”

Fingers curling over the polished wood, Jared drops his head down between his shoulders and widens his stance. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself for the addicting sharp thrust in.

But it never comes.

There’s a rapid knock at the door before it’s opened. Jared scrambles forward, shrugging into his discarded jacket.

Jensen glares at Matt. “What the fuck--”

“Ben.” Matt says, words thin and wispy like he can‘t catch his breath. “It’s Ben; he‘s dead.”

-

Two shots to the back of his head.

The first had probably killed him.

Ben’s body is lifeless, laying on the cold metal slab. He’s only been dead for a few hours but he’s already looking blue, lips slack and tinged grey.

Jensen looks down at him and thinks that Will would kill him if he were alive right now.

“What the fuck is going on?”


	13. The Sound Of White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT PUT ANY OF MY WORK ON GOODREADS OR OTHER SITES. This is for fun, not for publishing or profit. Please respect my wishes and privacy
> 
> WARNING: mentions of rape non con towards a child (in internal thought), mentions of sexual slavery (in conversation
> 
> xC

My silence solidifies,  
Until that hollow void erases you,  
Erases you so I can't feel at all.  
But if I never feel again, at least that nothingness  
Will end the painful dream, of you and me  
The Sound of White | Missy Higgins

 

Sometime after midnight the balcony doors slide open with a soft _snick_.

Jensen doesn’t move from the leather lounge.  He knows who’s there.

There’s only one person who would follow him into his sanctuary.

“You’re lucky Jared didn’t wake up and put a bullet through you.”

“J.D. is a better sweep than that.” Matt reaches past him to the open carton of cigarettes. “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you, I guess.”

Jensen had woken saturated in sweat, Patrick’s hands around his neck while Carmine cackled.

It never matters that Jensen knows he’s dead, that he knows the exact location where he scattered the body parts. 

It never matters.

Something about Ben’s death struck a chord. There are enemies close by that he's unaware of, maybe even in his own organization.

Jensen knows how easy it is to smile in a man’s face while plotting his death.

Ben's death means he’s been careless.

Matthew sits down next to him, knee knocking against his. “Cold out.”

“That’s what happens when summer ends.” Jensen lets his arm fall over the back of the chair, coming around Matt’s shoulders. “What was he eating this time?”

“Pecan pie.” Matt’s face is fatigued under pale the moon light, eyes swollen and pupils dilated. “Made it through three slices before I woke myself up.”

It’s a favorite scene Matt’s mind torments him with; a fractured memory of the first time his father sold to be broken in.

Eleven years old, and Matt had been pushed to the ground, brutalized by two grown men as dear old Dad surveyed the scene from the attached kitchen in the motel room, eating his lunch of tuna melt and fries.

“He’s dead; none of it can hurt you.”

“Never makes a difference.” Matt snubs out what’s sure to be the first of many cigarettes and lights another. “I’m going crazy in the dark. He’s there, always fucking there. I wish…”

“I know.”

Jensen knows better than anyone that some things, some people,  will never leave. He’ll always look for his father’s broad shoulders in a dark room.

“Talk to me.” Matt’s begs. Jensen can see saw the tremors wracking his body. It makes him sick to see a physically strong man so weak because of memories. “Make me think of something else.”

“Where’s J.D?”

“Don’t want him to see me like this. It’s enough that he puts up with everything else.” Matt’s jaw clenches and Jensen’s eyes follow the movement of his throat when he swallows hard. “He thinks I‘m batshit as it is, not the sexiest thing in the world.”

“He hates when you come to me instead of him.”

“I’ve always come to you.”

“Maybe that should change.”

Matt inhales deeply, blows out smoke that curls over the banister and melds into the night. “Maybe.”

"You don’t care if I know you’re crazy?”

“You’re just as batshit as I am.”

Jensen chuckles. He raps his knuckles against the side of Matt’s head affectionately. “Just might be.”

“You’ll be a good father.” Turning his face, Matt presses his forehead against Jensen’s collarbone. It‘s habit. “You were a damned good one to me. “

The words fall over Jensen and warm him in a way he didn’t know he needed. He’s thought of nothing else for years now; spent many nights out  trying to imagine what his son‘s cry would have sounded like, if he would favor Jared with floppy brown hair and tip tilted eyes, or be like Jensen: fair and bald until he was nearly five months.

Being a father is a chance to set right what went so wrong for him.

Dreams are hard to let go of.

Jensen clears his throat. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m sayin’ it because I mean it… when we first hooked up on the rails, man…I would’ve died without you. I didn’t have a place or a plan; would’ve ended up as victim again. A piece of ass for a sleaze pimp or drug mule.”

“You know me, any excuse to kill.”

Matt snickers but laughs it off. They both know that night was more. “Take the compliment, asshole.”

They’ve never acknowledged it. Jensen knows what outsiders see, but they’re wrong. They were never in love and didn’t want to be. Love between him and Matt would be chaotic and pointless, each would die for the other, kill for the other but that’s the end of it.

It means something to Jensen; he’s felt every second of it.

“You think I’d be a good dad? Even with all the shit with Patrick?”

“Course.” Matt drawls, grinning. “But leave the blow jobs out this time around.”

Jensen laughs, choking on smoke that burns his lungs. “Asshole.”

Tonight feels like old times, when they only had the stars above their heads and the shirts on their backs.

“What about you and J.D.? He’s old enough to be a grandpa by now."

“Jokes about his age never get tirked.”

“No kids?”

“Maybe when this is all over. We’ve talked about finding a place…I don’t know ... Montana or Idaho cause he’s got his folks up that way. We’d get a house, have a few. Maybe.”

It will never be over. It may be selfish, but Matt will always be his; will always be with him if it’s in his power.

“I hope it happens for you soon.”

They sit in silence for a few cigarette s. They’ve done this more times than Jensen can count. He  set the skyline on fire just three short month ago.

“So, Rosie thinks Jared is the best thing since sliced bread.”

Jensen shrugs. He’s noticed the growing relationship between the two. Every warning he gives his little sister falls on deaf ears, and Jensen decides to let the cards fall where they may. She’s in New York for a just a few weeks.

“I think you do too.” The words are spoken gently. Matt doesn’t push, likely because he can feel the razor’s edge he’s toeing. “Can see it when you look at him.”

“Get your eyes checked.”

Matt closes his eyes and the breeze ruffles his hair off his forehead. “I can see it when he looks at you too.”

-

Rose Ackles must be magical.

Somehow, she’d not only convinced Jensen to allow her to go shopping but she’s managed to get him to agree that Jared join her. As a consequence, Jared’s spent the past few hours charging anything and everything useless and outrageous he can find on Jensen’s credit card in Barneys.

Chad and Genevieve join them, it’s almost normal. The body guards, after their initial hesitance, don’t say much.

As bubbly and warm as Rose is, she’s in that awkward stage, somewhere between a girl and a woman. Jared doesn’t have much experience in the arena of teenage angst but he remembers what it’s like to be  different. To be ostracized based on factors you can't control. While no one outright teased or tormented him, all the other kids were too afraid to even say hello. As a result, Jared had spent his formative years alone, trailing after his father.

Rose’s problem is not a classic beauty, her nose is a touch too big and her hair freckles too copious to be in fashion. She’s rough and tumble where girls her age are soft. But Rose blossoms under Gen's tutelage. 

“This isn’t for someone like me.” Rose tugh at the side of the violet dress, face red when she comes out of the fitting room.

 The dress is sleeveless, a-line and lands mid-thigh; Jensen will murder him. “You looh awesome."

“You don’t have to say things just to be nice.” She shrugs. “I’m chunky; no one pays attention to me that way.”

Jared doesn’t really know what to say to that.

“Not at all.” Genevieve takes over where he’s clearly failing. She‘s been buying things in bulk, silk scarves and cocktail dresses. Jared's put those on Jensen card too. “You have great lines, long legs, full bust...give those same boys a year and they’ll be following you on bended knee.”

“I doubt that.”

“I’ll show you. I have an entire glamor team that‘s will know just what to do with you.” Gen winks, and holds out a gloved hand which Rose takes eagerly.“Come with me, sweetie. Jared, you give us an hour.”

-

“Did you get a copy of the footage?”

Mark shifts on the balls of his feet uncomfortably. “About that…”

“What?” Jensen asks through clenched teeth. “Say it.”

“The tapes are missing.” Mark hurries to explain. “We have everything from before but the entire three days before his death--”

“Ben syncs his security cameras to an online storage base. Get in. Get me the footage. By Friday.”

“But Will built that firewall--”

Jensen launches across the desk, hauls the older man up by the scruff of his neck. He flexes his fingers once, squeezes against the windpipe. “You do what I say. No excuses.”

“I’m not trying to make excuses, boss, but you know Will, any firewall he designed is going to take serious manpower to break. I need time.”

Very calmly, Jensen walks around the desk and to the closet. There’s an aluminum bat propped against Rose’s suitcases, handle already sporting multiple colored scrunchies over the Yankees logo.

Jensen picks it up and Mark takes a frantic step back, stopping when his backs hits Matt’s chest.

“I’ll get you the footage, I swear just---”

“Hold him.” Jensen instructs, and Matt grabs the struggling man into a full nelson. The light strikes the body of the bat as he raises it. “I asked for no excuses.”

“Boss--”

“Or do you want to see me dead? Is there something you’re hiding, Mark? Something you don’t want me to see? Perhaps you’re the one who’s on the footage that suddenly doesn’t exist.” The harder he thinks, the more it makes sense. Mark is always pushing. Especially when it comes to Ben. “I allowed Ben to pick up where Will left off, did that make you angry? Make you think you can fuck me over?”

Agitated, Jensen’s feeling unstable. He’s not angry at Mark, not really, but himself. None of his thoughts are making sense, none of it, but no one is questioning him. They’ll let him beat Mark to death and wait their turn.

“I’ve been loyal to you for a decade--”

“Prove it.” Jensen rams the bat into the man’s abdomen, punching the air out of his gut. “All of you.” He looks to the silent men around him. “Prove it, bring me the rat.”

Matt releases Mark and he hunches over, hands around his middle. There’s anger in his eyes, determination but not hate.

“I’ll get you the footage, boss, by Friday.”

Jensen nods, licking his lips as he feels the heavy weight of the bat in his hands. “Mattie?”

“Yup?”

“Enzo got out on bail yesterday morning.” His smile is feral as he thinks of Genevieve’s husband. “Let’s take a trip down to the docks.”

-

When Meredith sees Rose, her eyes get wet and she smiles hard enough that _Jared’s_ cheeks hurt. She hugs her daughter hard, marveling at the much shorter hair and soft make up of blush, lipstick and a little kohl around the eyes. Genevieve had taken her to a salon and spa while Jared and Chad gorged themselves on burgers and milkshakes at the Shake Shack.

The difference is incredible. It’s not so much of an outward  change but the visible confidence Rose now exudes. Her long hair has been cut in layers to her shoulder’s bringing out a natural curl that frames and lengthens her round face. Instead of her uSuso jeans and tank top, she’s wearing a blue summer dress, sweet heart neckline and gathered waist with slight flare.

“I feel silly.” Rose blushes but her reluctance is put on. “Too done up.”

“You look beautiful.” Meredith assures her, and Rose looks pleased by the attention. Jared gets the feeling that she’s used to being on her own. “You look  so much like your grandmother.”

“You should see everything! I bought this dress--”

“Take it back and _wipe off that shit_ from your face.”

Jensen’s voice lands like ice water.

Rose looks stuned. Conflicted. “But--”

“You want to look like a painted whore? Do you?” Jensen growls savagely, grabbing her by the hand. “I said take it off!”

“Jensen.” Meredith attempts to intervene but Jensen is beyond reason. “Jensen, let her go!”

Jensen drags his sister out of the living room and into the hallway bathroom. He turns on the faucet and yanks a hand towel down for the wall to the sink. Even as Rose cries he scrubs the wet towel over her face smearing mascara and foundation all over her cheeks.

Jared is revolted.

And furious.

No one is going to do anything; not even Meredith. She‘s afraid of her son, it‘s obvious in the way she‘s wringing her hands but stands unmoving.

Jensen needs a solid kick in the ass.

There’s no one in the bathroom but Jensen and Rose; that’s all the leverage Jared needs. Before any of Jensen’s goons can stop him, he forces his way into the bathroom and turns the lock behind.

Once in the small space with Jensen, Jared grabs him, wrenching Rose’s hand free. She scrambles to the corner of the tub, scooting as far back as she can go,

Without thinking about the consequences, Jared shoves Jensen up against the tile wall, muscles straining to pin him down with his forearm. Jensen twists in his hold, managing to bring his knee up between them and hit him right in the balls. It pulls the air right out of Jared’s lungs but he doesn’t allow Jensen to break free, subduing him.

Outside of the door, Jared hears the pounding fists, demands to open up.

None of them move.

Jensen's incensed, his eyes like fire as he meets Jared’s gaze. “You’ve fucked up for the last time.”

“ _You’re_ the one who‘s fucked up.” Jared sneers right back, getting into his space. “Your sister, Jensen, _your fucking sister_. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The fight drains out of him; Jared feels it as Jensen sees his sister crying. “I know what’s best for her.”

“Scaring her half to death?” Jared loosens his grip on Jensen, forces his hand up to his chin. “Look at her: _you_ did that to her, for what? Some bullshit makeup? Who the fuck cares. She’s a teenager, Jensen.”

“You.” Jensen’s attention shifts to him accusingly. “You did this.”

“It’s just make-up. Gen thought--”

“Genevieve Cortese?” This time Jensen’s voice is deathly cold. “She wants to turn my sister into one of their tricks? That’s how it starts with them. They pick out young and impressionable girls; give them nice things to make them think they’re special. They’re out on the corner two days later, _sucking and fucking_ anyone willing to pay for it. ”

Jared’s stunned into silence, the slamming against the door rowing progressively loud.

Rose is white faced, make up smeared down her cheeks.

“I hate you.” She whispers vehemently, there’s no fear in her eyes. " I hate you."

 “Rosie…”

Jared sees the exact moment he comes back to himself, realizes what he’s done. The ugly mask falling to remorse and apology.

“I’m sorry.” Jensen repeats. “ _I’m sorry_.”

She flinches away from his touch and Jensen sucks in a hurt breath.

“Rosie, please…”

Rose’s lower lips starts quivering and the tears come once again.

This time Jensen doesn’t hesitate, draws her  into a tight hug even when she struggles to break free. She stops eventually, slumping forward in his arms.

Heart in his throat, Jared watches the two of them, mind ringing with what Jensen had accused. The Cortese don’t deal in flesh, especially not underage girls. He doesn’t want to think about it too hard. Jensen knows more. 

Abruptly, the door breaks opens with a loud crash, and Jared finds his face smashed against the tile wall opposite, Matt’s fingers ripping in his hair.

Jared feels warm blood trickling from his nose.

“Don’t move.” Matt orders. “Not a single fucking muscle.”

Not like Jared can.

“Matt, let him go.”

The unbearable pressure disappears instantly.

Straightening, Jared wipes his nose, fingers coming away sticky with blood.

That's it.

Jared rams his fist into Matt’s face as hard as he can, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone and the sting on his own knuckles.

Chaos beaks out and they go down in a flurry of elbows. Grappling, they crash into the hall table, breaking the wood and sending furniture flying. It’s like before, when they were teenagers. That was one redeeming quality with Matt, he never saw him as Carmine’s son, only someone who had yet to prove himself.

Matt’s learned a couple of things since their last fight but Jared’s quick; he can take pain and counter. It works to his advantage. By the time they’re pulled apart, Matt’s eye is rapidly swelling shut and blood covers his chin and chest. Jared’s not in the best condition but he’s come out of it better.

Jensen looks past him to Matt, lips thin and disapproving. “What if he was pregnant?”

Matt gets to his feet with the help of Steve. “I didn’t think.”

“You didn’t.” Jensen growls. “All of you, get out.”

The reprimand is not on his behalf, but it’s something. Jared touches his nose gingerly, not broken.  Meredith stands unmoving across the room, staring at Jensen's arm around her daughter.

-

“Lift up.”

Jared rolls over, wincing when his face touches the cool pillow. Jensen presses an ice pack to his cheek, the cold hurts before it numbs and takes the pain that’s been keeping him awake. “Fucking Matthew.

“That was some catfight.”

“Fuck you.” Jared mumbles, but he sits up and holds the icepack. Jensen hands him pain killers. The kindness puts him on his guard. “Thanks.”

“You were right.”

“About what?” Jared asks warily.

“Rose...I lost my shit…” Jensen runs a hand through his hair, agitated. “I crossed a line.”

“There is no line with you.”

“Not when it comes to my family.”

“You apologize?”

“Begged her not to cut short and run.”

“And?”

“She stayed.” Jensen lowers his eyes. “Mom can’t look at me, and when she does….”

“It’s like she’s seeing you for the first time.”

Jared swallows the pills dry, and sets the ice pack aside. When he does, Jensen comes to him, kissing down his neck and sucking bruises where anyone can see. His cell phone begins to ring unrelentingly, even from the bed, Jared can read Chace’s name across the screen. Jensen sees it as well but he doesn’t respond, keeps his full attention on him.

When Jensen pauses at his chin, his eyes flickering to his mouth, Jared sighs.

“You’re not afraid of anything.” Jared reminds him, drawing him forward in a brief caress. It‘s non-threatening, just a press of lips to lips. It‘s what he needs. “Least of all me.”

Jensen moves closer, keeps his eyes open, and kisses him.

-

The moment Jared opens his eyes the following day; he knows what day it is. It’s impossible to miss, the hallmark commercials urging hapless consumers to show carriers they care through overpriced nonsense.

Jared doesn’t want to get out of bed but he has no other option. He can’t even go to the graveyard and spend some time with his son with so many eyes on him.

Near noon, Jared showers and journeys out of the room.

Rose greets him with a small brown cardboard box and sympathy for the massive bruising he‘s sporting.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a bother….but Mama said you lost your baby… and that means something.” She smiles bright, face clean and youthful. In another lifetime, Jared would‘ve been thrilled to have her as a sister-in-law. “I got you this.”

Jared doesn’t touch the gift, heart squeezing in his chest. “I’m not…”

“Yes, you are. Even if you were a father for a little while ... I don‘t think your baby being gone makes you less of a carrier father.”

Before he can do something absolutely ridiculous like cry, Jared lifts the lid of the box.

Inside, a tiny plant sits in a little red pot. He can tell by the small pink flowers that it’s a cherry blossom. He’s never seen one so small.

“Thanks.” Jared croaks. “This was nice of you, but you should give this to your mom.”

“Mom isn’t a carrier.” Rose pushes the box back at him when he tries to give it back. “And I got this for _you_. Keep it on your window sill. It‘s nice to see something so pretty.”

“Your mother isn’t a carrier?” This is the first Jared’s hearing of this. “Then how…?”

Rose wrinkles her nose. “Patrick did.”

“I never knew.”

“Jensen wasn’t but a newborn baby when Mama met Pat. Ma took a shine to Jensen immediately. I think it’s part of the reason why she stayed for so long; she had no claim to Jensen otherwise.”

“Do you remember him?”

“Not really.” Rose doesn’t seem bothered by that. “Sometimes I have nightmares about him, coming to get me and stupid things like that…but nothing like what Jensen must know. I heard Mama tell the pastor that Patrick tried to abort Jensen twice, only reason he was born was because Patrick thought the last time took. He took a bunch of pills and bled for days; he never wanted Jensen, never wanted me neither;  thought we were mistakes.”

Jared feels sick. “Kids shouldn’t know things like this.”

“I’m not a kid.” Rose protests quietly, a thread of determination running through. “And it doesn’t make me sad or nothing; I hate Patrick, so in a way I’m glad he hated me too. Jensen was the best brother I could ask for, hardly knew what I was missing.”

The intensity and liveliness of the cherry blossom symbolizes hope. Optimism..

The death of his son had taken away his will to live, his dreams and his faith in anything good for his life. Instead of raising a child, he’d buried one.

A little optimism would be a beautiful thing right now.

The door downstairs opens and Jensen’s voice filters up the landing. Rose gives him an apologetic smile and moves away. “Any way, Happy Carrier’s Day.”

“Thank you.” Jared tells her, and means it. “Thank you.”

-

Carefully balancing the ornamental plant in his hands, Jared pushes the bedroom door open with his hip. The smile slides off his face.

A brown paper bag is sitting on the coffee table.

Jared knows what it is before he even opens it.

A pregnancy test.

_Fucking Matt._

  
-

 

Loud music and party favors are not what Jensen is after when he steps through the gilded doors of _Prick_ which is why he’s pissed  that he’s instantly accosted by Chace. The younger man has become a nuisance; superfluous. He’s getting all the sex he wants from Jared and truthfully, Chace doesn’t do it for him anymore.

Especially not with the white picket fence dreams he can read in his eyes.

“Where have you been, handsome?”

“Busy.” Jensen lifts Chace’s hand off his shoulder, ignoring the pout. “Where’s Chris?”

Petulant, Chace crosses his hands over his chest. “Why do you care?”

“Don’t test me, Chace, you won’t like the outcome.”

The surliness disappears and Chace is all lashes and lips once more, sliding close to him and stroking over the inseam of his slacks. “I’m sorry, honey, I just missed you. Let me make it up to you.”

Jensen remains flaccid.

Before he can properly shove Chace away, he spots Chris at the bar, cutting limes while Tommy stands nearby. One tilt of his head is all it takes for J.D. to extricate Chace from his arm and keep him at bay.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Jensen says icily as he slides unto a bar stool. Tom stops speaking immediately. “Haven’t heard a word.”

Christian’s eyes slide over him. “I’ve been here, I’m always here.”

“Ben’s dead.”

“I know.” Christian’s fingers tighten on the knife. “Everybody does.”

Jensen isn’t an imbecile. He knows when someone is angry or afraid. Christian is livid.

“Do you have something to say Kane?”

“Do I have your permission to be plain? Or will you find an excuse to take a bat to me?”

It’s a valid concern.

“Pour me some scotch. “ Jensen says in lieu of a response. “And say what you need to say.”

“We’re wondering what you’re going to do about it. First Will and now Ben, Carmine is picking us off one by one and you’re…”

“And I’m what Chris?”

Christian tenses, shoulders stiff beneath the denim shirt. “Something’s got to be done.”

Tom sets down a glass in front of Jensen, unusually quiet. That’s enough for Jensen to know that he feels the same.

“I’m working on it.”

“That include Jared?”

“What about him?”

“Maybe he’s…I don’t know.”

“Don’t turn pussy  now.” Jensen eyes him over the rim of the glass. “Say it.”

“Johnny was in here the other night, he thinks that you’re going to find your rat  on Ben’s security footage. Mark’s guy is almost through to the online storage.” Chris leans across the bar. “When Ben was alive, he and Chace knew someone was after him. I saw them with my own two eyes; talking and trying to figure it out. That guy on the footage? We both know who that’s going to be, so let’s strike before they suspect.”

“Do you really believe Carmine’s jackals aren’t circling us, right now? Even the feds are watching.” Jensen sets the glass down hard, sloshing liquid on the surface “Stand down, that’s an order. Let me handle this.”

“Jen.” Tom stops him near the door. “Can I see you in the back office?” He looks at the guards pointedly. “Alone.”

Once they door is closed behind them, Tom flips the painting hanging on the wall over and opens the safe. He takes out a large brown envelope.

"What is this?"

“Don’t know.” Tom says. “Ben told me to make sure it stayed sealed; for your eyes only.”

Jensen snorts in disbelief. “Let me guess, and to give it to me if something happened to him?”

Tom doesn’t laugh. “Exactly.”

“What was he doing behind my back?”

“Whatever Ben was involved in, it was for you.” Tom hands him the envelope. “Put that in your jacket before you leave.”

Interest piqued, Jensen does just that, planning on opening the damned thing as soon as he gets to his car. There must be a reason why Ben hid this. A damn good one.

Matt pushes away from the car when Jensen steps out into the cool night.

“We have a problem.”

“What?”

“It’s Jared.”

-

Jensen’s counts himself lucky that the driver’s not pulled over. They make it back uptown in less than fifteen minutes.

The sight in front of Jensen makes him stop. His liquor cabinet is wrecked.

Stepping over a discarded glass, Jensen picks up the empty bottle of Cuervo from the coffee table. The room stinks of sweat and alcohol, tequila making his eyes water. He spots an upended bottle of Avion, damp spreading out from beneath.

Jared’s slumped over in the easy chair closest to the floor to ceiling windows, head hanging at an awkward angle over the armrest. The bruises stand out against his pale skin in blues and yellows. There’s also a myriad of cigarette butts in the ash tray nearby, one still smoldering.

The excess liquor and cigarettes make him angry; Jared is supposed to be giving him a child and he’s treating his body like this.

“Is everything okay?” Rose pokes her head into the room, eyes widening at the scene. “Is Jared sick?”

“He’s fine.” Jensen lies, standing in front of Jared to hide the worst of it “Go back to bed; you’ll see him in the morning for your run.”

Jensen should leave Jared there.

He shakes him awake roughly instead. “Get up.”

Bleary eyes meet his, unfocused. “Jen’n?”

“Get into bed.”

“You came back.”

“It’s my fucking bedroom of course I came back.”

“M’here.”

It’s too late for this bullshit. Jensen hefts Jared up to his feet, grasping him by the underarms. The moment he’s on his feet, Jared immediately drops all his weight on him. And Jared’s no fucking lightweight.

“Shit, help me out here.” Jensen stumbles before he locks his knees to bear the weight and drags Jared over. “Get in bed, Jared.”

Jared flops down heavily, head hanging over the edge, missing the pillows entirely.

Cursing at the inconvenience, Jensen pulls off his shoes because he doesn’t want Jared stomping him to death in the night. Next, he tugs off Jared’s jeans and flannel shirt to leave him in his boxer briefs.

“You’re going to fucking get it tomorrow.” Jensen mutters, climbing in on his side after putting a trash can next to Jared’s side of the bed. “Don’t puke on my shit.”

“ _Noah_.” Jared slurs when Jensen pulls the covers over him. “My Noah.”

Jensen stops; he‘s getting tired of his vague bullshit. “Noah?”

For some reason that makes Jared’s eyes overflow. “You said his name.”

Jared’s always been a messy drunk; weepy and clingy when you’d expect the exact opposite of someone normally so happy. 

This is probably the one instance where Jared will tell the truth.

“His name?”

“My baby.” The words are muffled against the pillow but Jensen hears them like they were yelled through a megaphone. “Ours… _mine_.”

The steady thump of Jensen’s pulse rises in his ears, matching the rapid staccato of his heartbeat.

“Jared?”

“Looked like you, my _sonny boy_ …. used to call him that …‘sonny boy‘, remember?”

A hundred scenes filter through Jensen’s mind in vivid color; kissing the tiny swell of Jared’s bare belly, singing to their unborn son and promising both of them world. 

“I… I do.”

“Used to sing it to him too... fore he went asleep.”

“Is… Noah our son?” Jensen's vision goes grey and he struggles. “Did you...?”

“Was…not anymore…had him, held him.” With a sigh, Jared’s eyes flutter closed. “Sang him his song...My sonny boy.”

Jared passes out and Jensen’s world implodes.

-

When he finally awakes, Jared groans. He opens his eyes, looks right at Jensen and shuts them again.

“I have questions.” Jensen is sitting on a chair pulled directly in front of him. “And you’re going to answer them. Honestly. If I suspect that you‘re not telling me the truth, if I think you‘re lying to me, I‘m going to break every bone in your body.”

Jared groans again. “Too early for your bullshit.”

Jensen hurls the lead pipe at the wall behind the headboard, shattering plaster and leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Jared sits up, wide eyed as he surveys the damage and takes in the reality of the lead pipe.

“ _What the fuck,_ Jensen?”

“Who is Noah?” Jensen asks slowly, precisely. “Don’t lie to me.”

Sweat breaks out across Jared’s brow but he doesn’t respond, eyes large and blank in his pale face.  He remembers his drunken confession.

“Jared.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Do we…” The hope he can read in Jensen's eyes is devastating. “Is my son alive?”

“Was.” Jared finally whispers brokenly. “He was alive.”

“You gave birth?”

Jared nods mutely.

“You lied to me.”  Jared’s gathered in a brutal grip. “You let me believe that you had an abortion. Do you have any idea what that did to me...how I felt...You fucking liar!”

“A lie you accepted.” Jared shoots back. “What the fuck does that say about you?”

“Where is he?”

Shrinking away, Jared bows his head, hair covering his face. “He d-died.”

“When? How?”

Jared can’t tell the truth, he can’t.

Jensen will know that it was his fault; all his fault.

“In his sleep.”

Jensen opens his mouth to speak, and Jared flinches internally at the expected derision and blame, but before he can the door bursts open.

Meredith spills inside, socked feet skidding on the hardwood floor. “Jensen --”

“Get the fuck out!” Jensen screams, wild eyed. He drops Jared’s arms, advances towards her.

Jared doesn’t think he’d hurt her, doesn’t want to but he might.

“Rose.” Meredith sobs. “It’s Rosie; she’s gone!”


	14. The World Spins Madly On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT PUT ANY OF MY WORK ON GOODREADS OR OTHER SITES. This is for fun, not for publishing or profit. Please respect my wishes and privacy.

Everything that I said I'd do

Like make the world brand new

And take the time for you

I just got lost and slept right through the dawn

And the world spins madly on

 

The World Spins Madly On | The Weepies

 

 

-

 

Jensen rips through the hamper, sending clothes flying over the floor until he finds the discarded dress jacket and the envelope that Tom gave him.  It’s still there: fat, brown and unopened.

 

It feels heavy in his hand.

 

This may have something to do with Rose. The same person who shot Ben may be holding his sister.

 

And he’d ignored the information in favor of Jared. In favor of more lies.

 

Guilt twists through Jensen, sharp and paralyzing.

 

Jensen tears the envelope open only to have his guilt eclipsed with disappointment.

 

It’s Salvatore’s autopsy report.

 

Useless fucking paper.

 

Jensen doesn’t bother to read the rest.  It was Will’s final job and Ben must have felt like he needed to finish it. Tossing the packet on the table, Jensen grabs his coat and heads for the door where his men are waiting downstairs. He’s already had Mathew give his mother a sedative. As frantic as she is, she’s a distraction and her hysterics only hinder them.

 

“I want to help.”

 

Jared’s standing outside the closet, eyes grim and jaw set.

 

Considering that his father is most likely the son of a bitch behind this, his suggestion is laughable.

 

Jensen shoulders past him roughly.

 

“Jensen.” Jared reaches for him, fingers catching his wrist.

 

Jensen jerks away.

 

“Touch me now and I won’t be responsible for what I do.”

 

He’s looking for a reason to hurt someone, make anyone feel the pain he’s feeling now

 

Jared must read it in his eyes because he allows him to walk past, unhindered.

-

 

It’s been three days and Rose is still missing.

 

There’s no word, no demand for ransom or taunts; only silence. It’s nothing like the world he’s come to expect.  He’s left with dick but frustration.

 

Jensen feels impotent, like an asshole; someone who let his sister down. Rose trusted him, how many fucking times did he tell her she could?  And he’s let her down.

 

Even if there’s no evidence, even when the streets swear otherwise.  Jensen knows; there’s only one person who would want to hurt her to inflict pain on him. Carmine. His sister is in the hands of his enemy.

 

The same man who broke his bones and flayed the skin off his back between sips of his morning espresso.

 

Once the images start coming, they don’t stop. He can’t let himself think of Rosie being in his place, being forced to endure what he had. She’s delicate, accustomed to soft words and light touches. She’d never survive.

 

“Carmine denies any involvement.”

 

The words are spoken cautiously by Matthew.  He’s the only one who would approach Jensen.

 

“And you believe him?”

 

“We’ve had Johnny on him for weeks, since the shoot-out. Carmine didn’t come near our territory, has stayed in Brighton. I’ve put out feelers and the word is the same. His guys haven’t come this far uptown.”

 

Jensen closes his eyes. He wants to scream, kill.  “Get out.”

 

Anything to make this agony inside of him dissipate.

 

“I’m sorry, man.” Matt sits down. “We all are.”

 

Apologies won’t bring Rose back; it won’t stop the burning cavern inside of him.

 

Sorry means she’s dead, that people are _saying_ she’d dead.

 

And he can’t handle that; he won’t accept it.

 

Matt means well, Jensen knows he does, somewhere in his fractured mind but he strikes out at him anyway. Matt doesn’t react, his head snapping back from the force of the blow, lip swelling and blood darkening even as Jensen watches.

 

“Don’t.” Jensen snarls. “Just don’t.”

 

“I…” Matt’s looking past him, through him. “I loved her too.”

 

 _Loved_.

 

Past tense.

 

Jensen can feel himself cracking, can almost hear as something inside of him breaks. “I can’t…I fucking can’t.”

 

“We’ll make them pay. Whoever did this will pay.”

 

Jensen nods through his haze. “Leave.”

 

Either too stubborn or too stupid, Matt continues to sit there bleeding. He doesn’t flinch when Jensen overturns the table, glass shattering and scattering of the floor. He doesn’t move when Jensen yells like a madman, destroying anything and everything he can grasp in his hands.

His son who had been born, and just as quickly been taken away.

She’d been the only good in him he had left.

 

 

 

“Go.” Jensen demands again, hoarse. “Please.”

 

-

 

Jared’s curled up on the couch in the living room, not sleeping but not awake entirely awake. He’s been drifting in and out, body like live wire. The complex has been unusually silent, free even from Loki’s periodic growls.  The bedroom is uninhabitable and no one tells him where to go, so he stays down in the spare room, dogs curled at his feet.

 

It’s raining; midnight sky bursting into light with flashes of lightning.

 

She’s dead.

Rose must be.

 

Silhouetted against the window sill, is the small pot, the delicate petals lining the soil. Jared remembers the soft pink of her cheeks as she handed him the flowers. If he had tears left, he’d cry for her. She wasn’t a part of this world and yet it had swallowed her whole.

 

Meredith is inconsolable. She wants to go to the police. That’s not an option.

 

Near two in the morning, Jared wakes from a fitful slumber. At first, he thinks it’s the storm, a stray bout of thunder but then lightning strikes once more illuminating the dark to reveal Jensen standing in front of him. He’s the stuff nightmares are made of, half feral in the flashing light.

 

The scent of copper.

 

There’s blood on him, it covers his chest, seeps down his neck and splatters in dry patches on his cheeks. It’s everywhere. There’s no way to tell if it’s someone else’s or his own. Jared doesn’t really care. He knows that Jensen is a wreck, that he’s lost someone very important to him. He’s been there.

 

Jensen stares up at him, unmoving.

 

Anything Jared says won’t be enough so he says nothing.

 

Rising slowly, Jared walks to where Jensen stands. He stops in front of him, hands rising to rest on Jensen’s shoulders gingerly, barely pressing. Soft pressure. The blood is cold, congealed.

 

It’s an electric hum, the tightly coiled violence Jared can feel inside of him.

 

He waits.

 

When Jensen doesn’t react, doesn’t push him away, Jared undresses him like he would a child, tugging off the blood-soaked clothes carefully, lifting his feet to free him from his slacks.  All the while Jensen stands still, says nothing.

 

Once Jensen is naked, Jared leads him to the bathroom and before the large shower. Jensen blinks at the fluorescent light, green eyes settling on Jared as if he noticed him for the first time.  Jared turns the shower nozzle, directs the steady spray as hot as he can stand it.  Jensen allows himself to be led inside under the stream, but when Jared steps back to shut the glass door, his paralysis breaks. He grabs Jared and pulls him forward.

 

Water pours over Jared’s face, and for a second he feels like he’s drowning before Jensen pulls him down, mouth covering his demandingly. This isn’t a kiss, it feels like Jensen is trying to inhale his very soul. Trying to be someone else. Consume him.

This is a feeling he knows, recognizes. Jared remembers cradling his son after labor, inhaling his scent and flying. He recalls still, how he held a tiny for seconds before Salvatore tore him from his arms. Jared hadn’t been able to look down at his child’s face, couldn’t bear to see the warm, flushed skin as blue as the stiff, fingers that curled over the receiving blanket. The only image he has of his child’s face, is of his cry, his hiccoughing sighs as Jared held him over his heart. Death hadn’t been able to tear away that precious memory.

 

And Rose, she’ll always be the laughing girl with shy eyes. Jensen should remember her that way, chewing sunflowers seeds while playing cards, the tiny smile at her lips and a lousy poker face.

 

Jared can’t say that, so he tells him the only way he knows how. Only way he is allowed. When Jensen presses, he parts his lips inviting Jensen in, seeking the kisses he’s grown addicted to. Jensen ignites. He thrusts his tongue into Jared’s mouth hungrily, dominating him at every pass.

 

Panting against his mouth, Jensen takes Jared’s hand, draws it down to his hardening dick. “I need this.” He whispers hotly, biting down on Jared’s lip.  He flips Jared around, pressing his face against the wet tile as he kicks his legs apart. “Need you.”

 

All Jared gets by way of warning is conditioner as lube and cursory prep before Jensen shoves into him to the hilt. Jared struggles to breathe—to let him in. He digs his fingers into Jensen’s hip as he slams inside of him, nails gauging hard enough to cause pain and leave marks in their wake. Jensen gives him no quarter and plunges in deeper, holding Jared immobile as his hips continue a punishing rhythm.

 

It hurts, but beneath the pain, the low burn of pleasure fills him. Jared finds himself pushing back, welcoming the brutality of it.  Abruptly, Jared comes, shooting his release over the cream tile and down the drain. He feels used, body limp with pleasure as Jensen continues to pound into him and chase his release.  Jared feels overwhelmed and surrounded. He drops his head, cocking his ass up to allow Jensen to plunge in deep and rough.  

 

“Do you even…why do you...” Jensen mumbles, head bent as he stares down between their bodies. Jared knows what he must be seeing, his hole stretched tight around his plundering cock. He can feel the slickness where they’re joined. The thought makes lust slam white hot in his belly. “Always you, always.”

 

Jensen groans and grinds down on him, movements turning frantic now. Jared closes his eyes and lets himself be used. With a final thrust, Jensen gives a low cry and buries his face in the back of Jared’s neck as he comes.

 

It seems like a lifetimes passes, the water going cool as Jensen fills him with his seed. Neither speak when Jensen pulls out of him and shuts off the spray.

 

Following Jensen’s silent lead, Jared walks after him into an empty bedroom.  Jensen pushes him down unto the bed, opening his legs. It proves to be too much for both of them, Jensen fucks him two more times before exhaustion makes him pull out.

 

Jared’s hole is sloppy and open, thighs wet with Jensen’s cme. He shivers when he feels Jensen’s hand run up his high, feather light.

 

“Ok?’ Jensen asks quietly.

 

Jensen’s never cared to ask before.

 

Jared hides his face in the sheets, shifting over unto his stomach. “I’m fine.”

 

The smell of smoke hits his nose moments later. “Enzo is dead.”

 

Jared’s eyes snap open in the darkness. Genevieve.  Nicky. The man had been a good father, a good husband to his friend. They loved one another, even if they didn’t chose each other. “Why?”

 

“Why not?”

 

-

 

“Did you break Will’s code?”

 

“The bastard was too smart for his own good. The moment the security system recognized it was being hacked…it self destructed.”

 

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t blow off your useless head.”

 

“I have a line on your sister.”

 

Jensen freezes, faltering as he lights a cigarette. 

 

It’s been over a week. “Where?”

“I…” The hesitance in Mark’s voice is telling. “This guy Vinnie runs with, he says that there’s a boarding house…. where you can buy girls young.”

 

Jensen’s stomach roils, and the world narrows to sharp points light.

 

“He says he seen a new girl come through, about a week ago. She… I showed him a photograph, Boss, and he said she looked like Rose except her hair was cut off.”

 

Carmine doesn’t deal in skin, but there is a major family that does. Cortese.

 

“Where’s Vinnie?”

 

“Midtown.”

 

“Take me to him.”

 

-

 

It’s quiet when Chace walks into Jensen’s bedroom.  He knows many the men have gone with Jensen. Chace isn’t sure where they went or why but he isn’t going to forgo an opportunity to be in the apartment alone. He stops short at the door, surveying the wreckage of the one pristine chamber. Jensen is a hurricane, destructive and non-discerning as to who and what falls to his wrath. The mood had been subdued when he was allowed in, everyone distracted. It’s no secret why.

 

Jensen’s gone ballistic.

 

Chace steps over the broken glass, eyes narrowing in on the top of the dresser. Here it is, partially tucked into a drawer, but there.

 

The brown envelope. He’d seen Tom and Jensen go into the back room, and when Jensen left, Chase had watched from the shadows of the coat closet as Jensen tucked something into his coat.

 

Already knowing what he’ll find, Chace grabs the damning envelope and tucks it into his jacket. Ben was trying to screw him from the grave. Well, not anymore. With all this business of Rose being dead or missing or whatever, Chace doubts that Jensen went through the file. He’s sure he would’ve descended on the orphanage like an avenging devil.

 

Chace is almost to the door before he thinks better of it. He reopens the envelope, and thumbs through the papers until he finds the birth certificate, as well as the address of the Boy’s home and a handwritten letter in Ben’s own hand. After he’s certain nothing remains of Jonathan’s existence, Chace puts the envelope back where he found it.

 

He turns only to come face to face with J.D.

 

Chace freezes.

 

J.D. looks at him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

 

Pasting on his mouth charming smile, Chace replies. “Just looking for my watch.”

 

J.D. snorts and Chace breathes a sigh of relief, knowing the older man hadn’t seen shit. “Get it and leave, Jensen doesn’t need to deal with your shit today.”

 

Chace bristles. “I’d never do anything to make things more difficult for him.”

 

“Likely story.” J.D. doesn’t sound convinced. “But before you leave, I’m going to need you to hand me those papers.”

 

“Papers?”

 

J.D. raises a brow and crosses his arms over his chest. The action make his muscles bulge in a threatening manner which Chace is sure he intends. “You know exactly what I mean.”

 

“Why?” Bluff your way out, Chace thinks. “Just some opera tickets I got online last week. I was going to surprise Jen, but now with everything that happened. Well, it’s obviously not a good time.”

 

“I ain’t stupid, pretty boy.” J.D.’s voice is decidedly cold, the brittle smile falling away completely. “You hand it over or I take it.”

 

Chace’s gaze flits involuntarily through the door. He’s not unarmed, but he’s not suicidal. He wouldn’t make it two strides even if he did somehow get past J.D.  To crush the last of his hopes, Matthew walks past the door way. He’s never too far from his old man.

 

“Well?”

 

Palms clammy, Chace does the only thing he can.

 

He hands over the papers.

 

-

___

 

Jared stands in front of the dark office, his eyes making out a shape in the dim light. 

 

It’s all over the news. They’re blaming Jensen and calling it senseless violence, but that’s not true. Those monsters aren’t victims; they’re human traffickers.

 

As soon as Jared saw he had instructed Ben to drive him back to the penthouse.

 

“Jensen?” Jared looks at the figure in the dark, sees the familiarity of the broad shoulders and steps forward. “I…I heard about…” He can’t say her name.

 

“Don’t come any closer.”

 

“Are you okay?” Jared’s worry wins out over his trepidation. He walks into the room.

 

“I need to be alone.”

 

Jared reaches for the light switch, he wants to be able to see Jensen’s face; read his expressions.

 

Light floods the room and Jared’s stomach flips. Jensen eyes are flat, his face ravaged.  Bruises littered his exposed forearms. Feet moving of their own accord, Jared comes beside him, sinks down on the floor next to him. He takes Jensen’s bloody hands between his own.

 

“Go.”

 

“No.” Jared says firmly. “You’re in pain and I won’t leave you-”

 

“Why would I need you of all people?” Jensen’s lip twists in a bitter line. “You’re nothing to me.”

 

The words hurt, of course they do, but Jared doesn’t move. He knows that Jensen wants to push him away, and will say anything to get him to leave. He also knows that Jensen doesn’t want to be alone.

 

“I don’t care.” Jared squeezes Jensen’s hand gently, enough for him to know he’s there. “I’m not leaving. You need me now…I know you do.”

 

“If you want to comfort, stop holding my hand like a virginal school boy and wrap your fucking mouth around my dick.”

 

Jared doesn’t waver. “If that’s what you want.”

 

Jensen looks down at him, green eyes red rimmed and shot. He laughs, the sound rips through Jared.  “I’m going to kill your father, your precious family, and everyone you have ever loved. You know that, don’t you?”

 

Jared doesn’t say a word.

 

“Or maybe I should kill you.” Jensen shifts forwards on the balls of his feet, hands going to Jared’s throat.  The pressure is light, but real. “Take something precious away from Carmine; let him know what it feels like to lose.”

 

Unmoving, Jared keeps his eyes on Jensen’s. he should be afraid but he isn’t. He can see past the ferocity into the black abyss of pain. Even when Jensen’s finger’s tighten, cutting off his breath slightly, he knows Jensen won’t hurt him, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t.

 

“Do you know…” The pressure disappears and Jared can breathe again. He tries to inhale slowly but the need overwhelms, making him suck in gulps of air that wrack him with coughs.  “She…Rosie, she wanted to be a singer. We used to …sometimes, when she was little, she’d sing, that song from _Say Anything_ , remember?”

 

Wordlessly, Jared nods.

 

“She loved that shit song, even before Cusak lifted it up in that stupid boom box. She’d sing a line, and I’d sing back.” Jensen’s voice cracks. “I thought she’d be there, tonight at the warehouse… that it was over. But we turned over every stone in that fucking cesspool, but nothing. The bastards must have been tipped off and moved her. I had thought she was dead….and now I wish she was.”

 

Death surrounds them, Jensen has killed someone’s son or brother or daughter.  And usually they don’t go easy. It’s what has always scared Jared. Adriano’s face flashes in front of Jared’s mind, he hadn’t been much older than Rose.  It doesn’t make it hurt less.

 

“What do you know about Salvatore’s business?”

 

The questions catches him off guard. “Nothing.”

 

“You must now something, you were his husband! You were with him day in and out, slept beside him.”

 

“I swear, Jensen, If I did—”

 

“You’d what?” Jensen mocks dangerously. “You’d what Jared?”

 

“If I had known he was selling children, I would’ve done something to stop it.”

 

“Would you? Would you have gone against your entire family?” Jensen’s eyes are stone. “Still think I’m fucking blind, Jared.”

 

“What are you implying?”

 

Jensen’s smile sends chills down his spine. He reaches into his jacket and Jared’s heart slams with real fear, but what he pulls out isn’t a gun.

 

It’s a cellphone.

 

 _His_ cellphone.

 

The cellphone hidden in the vent with his birth control pills.

 

“Genevieve.” Jensen says, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the phone. “You called Genevieve yesterday, right before we raided the whorehouse.”

 

“I…” Jared wets his lips. “I can explain.”

 


	15. Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> violence.
> 
> I am thrilled at all of the comments and will answer them as soon as I find a stretch of time-- thank u all<3

 

 

In the lonely light of morning

In the wound that would not heal

It's the bitter taste of losing everything

That I've held so dear.

 

Fallen | Sarah Mclaughlin

 

 

The silence is broken when Jensen springs to his feet, pushing Jared back with enough force to send him tripping over the coffee the table. The impact of the fall punches the air out of his lungs. He knows how this looks, knows what Jensen’s thinking. Yet, Jared can’t bring himself to speak up.

 

“Not going to offer lies, Jared? Kiss me sweet and manipulate me?”

 

“I _never_ —”

 

“What you said about my son, was that even the truth? Is _nothing_ sacred to you?” Disgust is stamped across his features. “You can never hit rock bottom.”

 

“I wouldn’t lie about him.”

 

“Last chance.” Jensen stands over him like an avenging angel, broad shoulders seeming to eclipse all light. “Why did you call Genevieve.”

 

Jared called for many reasons.  He wanted to comfort her, the same way she had comforted him when Noah died. He wanted to hear her voice.

 “Enzo." Jared says, mouth dry. "I needed to know that she and Nicky were okay.”

 

“Here’s what I think.” Jensen sneers, kneeling over him. “I think you called that _bitch_ and told her we were riding to the whorehouse. I think _you’re_ the reason Rose is still missing.”

 

“Gen wouldn’t be involved, whatever it is you’re thinking Jensen, she wouldn’t do it.”

 

Jensen’s fingers twist in the front of his shirt and haul him up until their eyes are inches apart. “You’re still so fuckin stupid, even after _everything!_ ” He yanks Jared’s head forward, exposing the burn at the base of his neck. “Where was she when they branded you like an animal? _Where was she when her brother raped you_?”

 

For one unbearable moment, the world is white noise and Jared is shocked into silence. She didn’t know. She couldn’t have known wat was going on in that house. Not even his father was aware.

 

“Never thought of it that way, did you?” Jensen mocks softly. “I saw it within weeks. She knew, Jared.”

 

“She’d never…if she knew where Rose was she would’ve told me. But she doesn’t know, Jensen, she doesn’t know.” Jared realizes belatedly what he’s said. “Jensen, I—”

 

“You.” Jensen throws him back against the floor. “You’re the reason, Jared.”

 

Harley and Sadie begin to bark loudly, reacting to the violence. The noise seems to only fuel the rage inside of Jensen. He smashes his fist into the bar, pushing it forward and letting it splinter on the floor; glasses, bottles and shakers spill out onto the floor, glass breaking and liquid pooling to stain the ornate carpet.

 

The door slams open and J.D. stands there face ashen. “Jensen.”

 

Jensen spares him a cursory glance, lips curling in scorn. “Get out.”

 

“Jensen, I—”

 

Jensen reaches into his waistband, draws his gun. He’s wholly lost control.  He’s unpredictable and livid, likely to do anything.  It doesn’t matter what Jensen’s done to him, Jared can’t seem to make himself not care.

 

Jared gets to his feet unsteadily and reaches for him.

 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Jensen shoves him, and Jared hits the floor, palms skidding over glass. Blood wells up rapidly, staining the floor. Jensen either doesn’t see it or he doesn’t care. “Everything you are, everything about you, is a pathetic lie. I almost…you almost got to do it again, didn’t you?”

 

The gun is leveled at Jared now.

 

“I didn’t do it, Jensen.” Jared refuses to cower. “Whatever you’re thinking, I didn’t do it. And our son, I could never lie about him, not him, not _our baby_ Jensen.”

 

The hesitation lasts for mere seconds before Jensen is gone.

 

Jared attempts to follow only to be stopped by J.D.  “Don’t.”

 

“He needs me.”

 

J.D. shakes his head, his expression a nauseating mixture of pity and sadness. “No, he doesn’t.”

 

“The feds are waiting for him to fuck up. That’s one thing Gen knows. They’re the ones behind the hits. They want him to make a mistake.”

Jared tries once more to get around him, but J.D.  holds strong even when Harley snaps a bite at his calf in warning. “He can’t be alone.”

 

“Matt will handle him.” J.D. shuts the door, effectively locking himself in the room with Jared. “You stay.”

 

Jared sizes him, takes in the width of his shoulders and set of his jaw. He could get past him, he could take him. J.D. seems to be reading his thoughts, he takes a step back, puts his hands up, palms out.

 

“Should get your hand checked out.”

 

The bleeding has slowed. “Do you know where Jensen going?”

 

“It’s not your place to question his decisions, not mine either.” J.D. says with the fortitude of a mechanical soldier. “Jensen’s survived because he makes the right choices.”

 

“He said he’s going to kill my father.” It’s strange, the cloying heat rising in his throat and blurring his eyes. “He’s going to kill everyone I love.”

 

“Not everyone you love returns the favor.”

 

It’s absurd, and Jared will blame it on adrenalin, but he’s grieving. He wants a distraction, anything to get away from reality, anything to stop thinking. If he could just get to Gen, if they could talk, for real, then she would be able to explain.  

 

“I found Chace trying to hide this.” J.D. interrupts his thoughts. “Jensen doesn’t know yet, but I know that if it were me…I don’t know what they told you or why ...but those people don’t love you. I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?”

 

J.D. reaches into his pocket and when Jared sees his birth control pills he feels his stomach plummet. “If I knew what I did now…it may not mean much, but I regret it.”

 

“You told Jensen I was on birth control.”

 

“He knew, since the first night. I’m a better sweep then that. The cellphone? It was a good way to keep tabs on you.”

 

Jared feels ill, pulse quickening. “And my pills?”

 

“Replaced with sugar.”

 

Hysterical laughter claws at his throat but before Jared can even process the violation of his body, of his choice, a thick stack of papers drop down in his lap.  On top is a photo of Genevieve, it’s from a security camera, and it’s blown up to the point where the edges have blurred but it’s her, Jared would know her face anywhere, even behind the glasses.

 

Jared looks up from the papers to J.D. “What is all of this?”

 

“It won’t be just between you and me forever.” J.D. tells him grimly. “Just read it.”

 

-

 

“Sweet dreams, _tesoro_.”

 

Genevieve closes the door of the child’s nursey, smiling softly at the sight of her son tucked beneath so many stuffed animals. He looks so much like Enzo, her heart bleeds. At least she can take comfort in knowing that the bloodshed ends with her. He will never know the pain of losing a loved one to meaningless violence, to the senselessness of the Family.

After years of pain, she's stepped up to end it all. It takes a woman to do a man's job.

With a sigh, she draws her silk robe around her shoulders, a cool breeze makes her shiver and then stop in her tracks.

 

There’s a draft.

 

She knows before she sees the boots of her husband’s bodyguard at the foot of the stairs.

 

“Genevieve.”

 

This had always been the risk, but the pieces have been set in motion long ago. Every choice she’s made, she’s known that it may end this way. She wouldn’t take any of it back.

 

Schooling her features to hide her apprehension, Genevieve turns to face the monster. “ Hello, Jensen.”

 

_

 

_Saint Francis’ Home for Boys._

 

The boy is sitting at a scarred, wood picnic table, intently playing with two action figures. While the other children around him are in pairs of three or more, he’s alone. It doesn’t seem to bother him. His head is bent, tongue poking out slightly in concentration as he swoops the batman through the air to make him fly. He’s making noises with his mouth, they sound like missiles and lasers and this little spark of life is _everything_ Jared’s always wanted.

 

Jensen’s hair, Jared’s curls.

 

Jared tries not to cry, but he can feel he’s failing. Because he _knows_ , something in him recognizes his baby. That part of him that had shriveled to nothingness, swiftly springs back to life. His arms ache to hold his child.

 

Jared takes a step closer, wiping the stray tears away. The entire time he’d been in the car, he hadn’t believed it, couldn’t allow himself to. The thought that his son was alive, that Genevieve knew and kept it from him, watched him grieve to the point of suicide,  is something his heart can’t reconcile.

 

“Excuse me, sir.” A slim hand stops him, and Jared blinks down at a small woman in a sturdy black nun’s habit. “This is private property, please keep away from the children.”

 

“I…” Jared voice is little more than a croak. “I’m here to see my child; Jonathan Furillo.”

 

Her sharp eyes narrow in distrust. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

 

“I’m a friend of Ms. Cortese.”

 

The alarm grows.  “I’d like you to go.” Her voice is louder now; sending several stares in their direction. “Now, if you will.”

 

There’s about a yard separating them when his son looks up curiously at the commotion. Those eyes, Jensen’s eyes, bring Jared to his knees. Every kick he’d felt in his womb when he was pregnant, the way the tiny fingers clung to his when he was born and how he only stopped crying when Jared placed him to his chest, against his heart…Jared remembers each moment.

 

And now this new one.

 

His son looking at him for the first time. His baby, living and breathing and so beautiful _it hurts_.

 

“I’ll call the police.”

 

Jared tears his eyes away from the boy to face the nun.

 

“I’m going to speak to him, and if you interfere.” Jared tells her with a calm he doesn't feel. He inclines his head to J.D. who has chosen to wait outside of the car at the curb. He cuts an imposing figure in leather and denim, face hidden behind dark shades. “My friend back there will shoot you where you stand.  He's packing hollow rounds, there won't be anything left of you for a Christian burial.”

 

The nun shudders but to her credit, she stands still.

 

Jared closes the distance between him and Jonathan.

 

There are no words to say, except for that first: “Hello.”

 

The boy clutches his action figures to his chest, holds onto them like a lifeline. He doesn’t answer. The rest of the children observe them, but none move to his aid. Jared feels a flare of anger at how alone his child is here.

 

“Is that batman?”

 

The boy continues to stare, lips turning down at the corners. Jared can see the faint imprint of dimples and wants very much to see the full force of a smile, to hear a laugh.

 

“Do you like superheroes?”

 

Jonathan is looking past him, to the nun now. The boy gets to his feet, eyes moving from his scuffed sneakers to Jared’s tall frame warily. Jared can see him calculating the distance and time it would take to run inside versus running to the teacher.

 

“My friend visited you before.” Jared takes out the surveillance photo. He opens his phone to a few other photos of him and Gen at Nicky’s baptism. “You know her?”

 

A slight relaxation and nod, he points to the picture. “She’s nice to me.”

 

“She is nice.” Jared agrees, tamping down on the maelstrom of anger at lie. “But listen, she’s going to be going away and asked that I give you a proper goodbye for her.”

 

“Oh.” The boy looks dejected, pouting. “We were going to go to the zoo.”

 

“I could take you.” Jared volunteers. He wants nothing more than to swoop the boy into his arms and hug him until he can convince his mind that this is real. “I like the zoo.”

 

“She’s my friend.”

 

Jared sits down at the table cautiously.  He’s thought of what he was going to say, or at least tried to. He knows it would be better to wait, but he can’t hold it in.

 

“Did she ever tell you why you’re here?”

 

Jonathan nods. “Yes, secret.”

 

“She told you it was a secret?”

 

“No, _me_.” Jonathan points to his chest. “I’m a secret.”

 

His heart twists viciously. “Why?”

 

“Cause my Papa loves me very, very much but he can’t keep me.”

 

That isn’t the answer he was expecting and it confuses the hell out of Jared. “Why can’t he keep you?”

 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, looking sad. “Grown up stuff.”

 

“What else did she say about your papa?”

 

“He’s coming to get me.” Jonathan says with as much conviction as a child can. “She doesn’t say it… and the other boys don’t believe me but…”

 

“But what?” Jared prods gently.

 

“If you love someone, you come back, right? You have to, that’s how it works.”

 

Any love he’s felt for Genevieve dissolves to hatred.

 

“That’s how it works.” Jared agrees tremulously. Aware of the nuns watching, Jared leans across the table. “What do you think will happen when he comes back?”

 

“He’ll swoop me out like batman and go home and have lots of toys.” Jonathans declares decidedly, swooping his action figure through the air. “And….and…and we’ll get chicken nuggets every day, not just on wed-nes-day.”

 

Jared beams. “Chicken nuggets are my favorite too.”

 

Another smile, wider this time. He’s missing a tooth. Jared doesn’t want to think of everything he’s missed; his first steps and first words. He wasn’t there when he woke in the night afraid from a nightmare; he didn’t kiss his scrapes or rock him to sleep.

 

All of those dreams he’d had for his child, all stolen by the Corteses.

 

“Mister?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Why are you crying?”

 

“Sorry.” Jared hadn’t realized he started up again. “I’m just very, very happy to meet you.”

 

Jonathan looks confused, but steps closer. He walks over to Jared and places his other small arm around him in a hug. Jared doesn’t move for a moment, he hadn’t been expecting this, hadn’t thought he’d be given the opportunity.

 

But then the paralysis lifts and he gathers him close, hugs him back. He’s still so small, defenseless. There’s a hint of the scent of talcum powder clinging to him.

 

 _Sonny_.

 

This is his child; the one Jensen sang to in his belly.  

 

Jared doesn’t want to let go but he does when the boy pulls away to look up at him.

 

“Hey.” His cheeks are round with the last remnants of baby fat. “Are you my friend?”

 

“Jonathan,” Jared should lie, he knows he should but from the moment he saw him, Jared knew he wasn't going to leave without him. “I…I’m your Papa.”

 

The fear Jared is expecting to see doesn’t come. The only thing he sees in the child’s eyes is blind trust. The immediate acceptance humbles him.

 

“I knew you would come back!”

 

“Jared.” J.D.’s and falls heavy on his shoulder. “The scanners picked up police, we’ve got to go. Now.”

 

“I won’t leave him.” Jared will have someone come back for any belongings but his kid won’t spend another night here. “I can’t.”

 

Jonathan looks up at him with big eyes. “Are you going away?”

 

“We’re going home.”

 

-

 

Genevieve doesn’t prove to be much of a fighter. She doesn’t beg for her life and she doesn’t offer excuses. She’s been silent since Jensen had her carried out of her home. Even with her hands tied behind her back, she meets his gaze head on.

 

They’re at the docks. It’s secluded and tucked away, buried far inside a maze of shipping cars. It’s best this way.

 

“My sister.”

 

She doesn’t react, stare unwavering.

 

There’s a small cut above her eyebrow, Matt must’ve nicked her on the way in.

 

“Where is she?”

 

A small smile then. “Am I your sister's keeper?”

 

The need to cut her open engulfs him. She’s satisfied, he can see it in her smirk. Genevieve _knows_ where Rose is. It’s laid out clearly on her face, she wants him to know.  But something else is also there, her defiance. Whatever he does to her, she won’t break.

 

Fuck her.

 

Jensen runs the tip of his knife through the thin silk of her robe, slicing open the delicate material to reveal her bare skin. “I’m going to have fun taking you apart.”

 

“Not as much fun as me.”

 

“You won’t go quickly.”

 

“Nothing good lasts forever.”

 

“I left Nicholas at the house. I can easily go back. Let’s see how strong his Mama is when it’s her baby being dissected.”

 

Genevieve throws her head back and laughs, long and hard. “Oh Stop.” There are tears at her eyes. “You don’t have it in you, Jensen. You can play act at being one of us, but you never can be. A Sicilian has steel in his blood, but you? You’re weak in all the ways that matter.”

 

“And you’re a rat.” Matthew strides into the room, a small white card between his fingers. “A snitch.”

 

Jensen takes the card disbelieving but it’s there in bold print.

 

It has the contact number for an Agent Chau.

 

“You turned on your family?”

 

“Family? What Family do I have left?” Genevieve retorts. “They’re dead, you made sure of that.”

 

“What about your loyalty?”

 

“I’m loyal to my _name_. The police will know I’m missing Jensen, and with all the information I’ve been feeding them about you and your organization, I’m going to take a guess at who is at the top of the list of suspects. And the best part? _The absolute best part_ is that while you rot away in a maximum-security prison, your precious sister is going to be fucked every which way. You may have killed my cousins, my uncles and _my husband_ , but your sister will die _every day_ for the rest of her miserable life.” Genevieve grins. “Game over.”

 

Jensen snaps.

 

He hits her, pummels her face with the butt of his glock until the smile stops.

 

Matt pulls him off of her before he can strike the fatal blow.  “Don’t play into her hands.”

 

Jensen needs air. He leaves the room, walks until he hits the exit and steps into the cold night air. He’s going to be sick. Staggering to the side of the container, he spits bile.

 

“I should kill her anyway.”

 

“You can’t.” Matt reasons. “Not until we know if she’s bluffing. If you off a C.I.-”

 

“Fuck the consequences, I’ve got nothing to lose.”

 

“More than you think.”

 

-

 

It’s difficult to breathe.

 

The moment Jensen steps over the threshold he can hear laughter and voices. It stops him. His house sounds like a home.

 

And there he is.

 

The little boy is coloring at the kitchen table, legs swinging beneath him on the stool as he says something down to Harley whose begging for scraps of what looks like chicken nuggets and French fries.

 

This is real.

 

_Sonny boy._

 

His world swims before his eyes and crashes into a million pieces of triviality. Jared turns from the stove, a steaming bowl in his hands. He looks so happy, dimples out in full force, the tense lines of the past months erased. They sit at the table, blowing into their bowls and Jensen stands alone, knuckles split and stinging from Genevieve’s teeth. Matthew had been smart to tell him of her part in all this when he was miles away from her.

 

“It’s still hot!”

 

“Blow.” Jared laughs when the boy does just that, sending what smells like tomato soup spattering on the table. “Not that hard!”

 

Sonny smiles back, his profile strikingly like Jared’s from the tip of his upturned nose to his dimpled cheeks.

 

All Jensen can hear is his voice, insulting Jared and berating him. Abusing him. All Jensen can see are his hands moving roughly over his skin, forcing him, violating him.

 

It’s easy to imagine Jared holding their baby, weary and hurting from birth only to wake up and be told he’d passed in the night. The lies he’s been told by the people who claimed to love him, everything he’s suffered because of Jensen.

 

Because he loved Jensen.

 

 _Jared_.

 

It’s the feeling of Matt at his back that makes Jensen finally walks back into the kitchen.  

 

“Hello.” Jensen says, his voice is hoarse, heavy with years of longing.

 

The little boy looks up startled, before he smiles. “Hi.”

 

The sound of his voice nearly brings Jensen to his knees. He stands there like a mute until Jared gets up and speaks to the boy. Jared says something in his ear and his mouth forms an ‘o’ of surprise.

 

He turns to Jensen, grilled cheese forgotten and floating in his soup. “Are you Daddy?”

 

“I’m...” Jensen clears his throat and looks over his head at Jared. Jensen thinks of Ben’s lifeless eyes on the metal slab of the hostile morgue. “I…yes, I am.”

 

-

 

On his tenth birthday, Jensen had woken up to Patrick’s smiling face and funfetti pancakes for breakfast. After the dishes were cleared away, Jensen opened a bright colored box to find his very first rifle, brown and gleaming under the morning light. His father had taken him out to the shooting range and let him try his hand on moving targets. Jensen hit four out of seven and Patrick had been so proud, telling anyone who’d listen what a shot his kid was.

 

The entire time, Jensen had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, but whatever Patrick was on, whatever mood he was in, lasted until Jensen fell asleep. For one whole day, he had known what it was like to be a child that was loved.

 

Tonight, feels like that day. At any moment, he’ll wake up with Chace or Kristin tangled around him, the taste of nicotine on his tongue and the smell of smoke in his sheets. Jensen watches Jared reading to Jonathan from his iPad. They’re in his bed, it’s clear that Jared won’t let him out of his sight for the night. The boy is so trusting, clinging to Jared and smiling even though he’d asked for the nuns earlier. Jensen feels pride swell in his chest when Jonathan points out words he knows, and reads several sentences on his own.

 

Footsteps approaching make Jensen turn away from the tableau. Matthew is coming towards him, small frown creasing his features.

 

“Where’s Chace?”

 

“Downstairs.” Matt inclines his head to the stairs. “Do you need me to come with you?”

 

Jensen shakes his head, Chace is an inconvenience that needs to be disposed of. There had been a time when he’d been fond of the kid but he’s quickly become more trouble then he’s worth.  He can deal with him on his own. “Keep an eye on them.”

 

When he steps into the living room, Chace doesn’t look worried. He’s sitting on the couch, feet crossed as he stares ahead at the television. There isn’t a single hair out of place, his fine silk shirt laid just so. He’s been treated well, not a scratch on him. Jensen is going to change that.

 

But for all his deception, Chace is simply an idiot child. He’s not a threat, not in the way that matters. He’d been intending to keep Jensen from the truth, the way J.D. tells it but that’s a sin that can overlooked. To a point. Genevieve is the one who is the cause. Jensen has bigger things to worry about, like how to get rid of a confidential informant without taking a murder rap.

 

“Jen.” Chace perks up, coming to his feet. He’s all big eyes and soft lips; its contrived. “I know what you must be thinking.”

 

There’s no use in exchanging pleasantries. “You can keep your job at _Prick_ , but I’m done.”

 

Astonished, Chace’s eyes widen. “You’re breaking up with me?”

 

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Jensen shrugs, indifferent. “We were never in a relationship, it was fucking, pure and simple.”

 

“For Jared?!” Chace yells. “Do you really think he cares about you? He’s taking advantage of you, using that brat--”

 

Chace breaks off when Jensen’s hands go around his throat. “I have every reason to kill you, Chace. Accept this small mercy for what it is and leave.”

 

“He’s playing you Jensen.” Chace insists insolently. “You’ll see.”

 

“If you come near my family, it’ll be the last thing you do.”

 

“And what about our baby? _Our Family_. You care nothing about that?”

 

Jensen’s eyes narrow, sweat pricking down his spine. He’s been careful, more than, there can be no way. “You’re lying.”

 

“I’m not.” Chace tells him. “I’m pregnant.”

-

 

It’s easy to slip into the silent house. Jared knows the dark corridors as well as he did all those years ago, as a child, playing hide and seek. He’s going to do this himself. It’s remarkable how calm he is. Jared moves past Michael and walks soundlessly up the staircase.

 

He pushes his father’s bedroom door open.

 

Carmine is asleep on his back, in bed alone, the heavy velvet bed curtains drawn back. He looks like he’s laid out for a viewing, hands folded neatly over his stomach as he breathes in even bursts.

 

Jared attaches the silencer to the colt 45. He’d expected to feel something more. He wanted to feel elation but all that’s there is a heavy weight on his chest. It’s what’s always made him weak. The way he gives and loves despite constant hurt and betrayal. Jared’s doesn’t know if he can pull the trigger but he needs to know why. So, he stands at his father’s bedside, the same way he did as a little boy, blankie behind him, when a storm scared him into running across the hall, and he presses the nozzle to his father’s temple.

 

Carmine’s eyes open instantly.

 

“Father.”

 

Flickers of emotions run through his dark eyes, and Jared’s satisfied at the hint of uncertainty and fear.

 

“Jared.” Carmine reaches for his hand and Jared unlocks the safety, the click loud in the otherwise silent room. Carmine lets his hand fall to his side. “Son, what are you doing?”

 

“How could you look at me, see what I was going through and not tell me?”

 

“I don’t know what your speaking of.”

 

“Did you hate me that much?” Jared continues, shaking.  “What did I do to deserve you lying to me? Letting me suffer?”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and pointing a gun at your father—”

 

“My son.” Jared snarls, pressing the gun in harder. “You let me think he was dead, you _let_ me believe the lies Salvatore fed me. _Why_? What did I ever do that was so terrible? What did I do ? I gave you what you wanted and you let them take my baby—”

 

“Your child is alive.” Carmine sits up with a start. "How?"

 

Jared’s palms are sweating, finger hovering over the trigger. “Seven years. You let me think he was dead for seven years, and hid him away in that orphanage.”

 

“I didn’t know!”

 

“Stop lying. Just once, tell me the truth. I _deserve_ to hear the truth from you.”

 

“I didn’t know, Jared, on your mother’s grave, Jared, I didn’t know.”

 

“He was twenty fucking minutes away.”

 

His father curses in Italian, “I’d kill Salvatore myself if he wasn’t already dead.”

 

Jared gives a watery laugh. “You wanted me married to a Cortese, you planned every detail. Even if you didn’t know, even if I believed that, you’re just as guilty as he is.”

 

Giving Jensen up, walking away had nearly killed him but Jared had known Jensen was prepared to die for him. He hadn’t wanted that; so, he followed his father’s orders and in return Carmine instructed his men to give way when Jensen fled.  All he’d had left was his baby, _their_ baby; it was the only thing that kept him alive.

 

Salvatore had made a show of accepting the condition, he’d plastered a smile on his face and exchanged vows in front of a priest. Promised to love and protect Jared.   The worst part of it all, the very worst part is that he hadn’t even suspected, that he’d trusted that monster. He’d thought Sal was trying to make it easier for him. He’d been so stupid.  Sal had shown his true colors once he realized Jared wouldn’t fall into his bed with gratitude.

 

The first time he resisted Salvatore had been angry, but he’d relented.

 

The second time he backhanded Jared hard enough that his ring broke a tooth. Jared had spit out blood unto the carpet and the bastard laughed.

 

The third-time Jared had awoken to Sal’s sour breath and heavy weight atop him. He broke Sal’s nose; the fight was loud enough that the night guards ran into the bedroom thinking they were under attack. Two men had to pull them apart.

 

Jared’s never spoken of it, he’s never told, but he’s saying it now; watching his father’s face age before his eyes as he does.

 

“ _Cucciolo_.” Carmine presses his forehead to Jared’s. The pet name is one Jared scarcely remembers, but its familiar in the way childhood memories are filtered through rose colored glasses. “I’m ashamed I ever made you doubt me. Let me help you.”

 

Jared can’t pull the trigger in the end, he never could.

 

-

 

Jared’s back in bed well before sunrise.  Jonathan is asleep on his stomach, action figures on the nightstand and teddy bear tucked close. Jared brushes his blond curls away from his forehead before closing his eyes and settling in. He’s not sure where Jensen is, he’d disappeared after dinner, but for once, he doesn’t let himself dwell on that. He thinks instead of Genevieve who comforted him while he mourned the loss of his child, who hid his son from him and let him agonize for years. He thinks of the tiny corpse he cried over, wonders where that baby came from. He lets his hate fester until it curdles to rage.

 

Whatever Jensen has planned for her, Jared won’t stand in the way.

 

When Jared next opens his eyes, it’s morning and Jonathan isn’t next to him. Panic makes him throw off the heavy covers. He doesn’t get far when he hears their voices. Jensen is in the en suite bathroom, white towel slung around his hips. Jonathan is sitting on the sink, timidly watching Jensen shave. Jensen grins when he meets the boy’s avid gaze in the mirror, then wipes a dollop of shaving cream on his cheek. He makes a huge production of swing the razor through and Jonathan eats it up, laughing and then commandeering the razor to try.

 

“A little young to be shaving, aren’t you?”

 

“Papa!” Jonathan hops off the sink with Jensen’s help. “We’re going on a trip.”

 

Jared catches the hug, lifting him. “We are?”

 

“Pack for warm weather.” Jensen instructs, tone giving nothing away. “We leave in an hour.”

_

 

This could be paradise.

 

Bright rays of sunlight stream through the wide-open doors of the balcony. From the bed his view is unobstructed clear, blue ocean. Jared can smell the salt of the ocean on the breeze blowing into the room and billowing the white curtains.  The sound of the ocean had lulled them to sleep the night before and now it whispers him awake.

 

As Jensen sleeps behind him, Jared watches the sun rise over the crashing waves and sandy shore, mug of tea in his hand as he sits in the hammock.

 

Jared thinks back to the last time he felt this at peace.

 

_The night before they leave Texas, Jensen drives his mom’s old truck out to a swimming hole. They strip down to their briefs, diving into the cold water. With the baby, Jared starts to get tired near noon, so Jensen unpacks the cooler he brought with them and hands him a thick ham and cheese sandwich, extra mayonnaise._

_The radio is playing as they eat and Jared sings along if he knows the song, and even if he doesn’t. It makes Jensen laugh. Jared moves around some until Jensen gets the hint and lets him lay between his legs, Jared’s back to his bare chest._

_The moment Jared settles, Jensen’s large hand comes over his bare belly, stroking the tight skin. Jensen is rolling a cigarette in his other hand, it’s habit but he can’t smoke around Jared now._

_Grabbing the bag of Lays, Jared munches on them happily while listening to Jensen talk about the times he came down here as a kid. It’s difficult at times, hearing where Jensen came from, but  it's beautiful that Jensen trusts him enough to be vulnerable._

 

_Jared turns over, nudges Jensen’s arms aside so he can lay his head on his chest. Jensen grins down at him, brushing his fingers through Jared’s tousled hair._

_“This must be love…'Cause it's really got a hold on me.”_

 

“Where’s the bathroom?”

 

The whisper makes Jared smile, and he gets to his feet. “Morning, Sonny-boy.”

 

“Morning.” Jonathan’s hair resembles a bird nest and he has dried drool on his cheek. Perfection. “I need to go.”

 

Jared takes him to the restroom, helps him brush his teeth and washes his face when he’s done. He tries to catalogue these moments and treasure the mundane tasks. He doesn’t even mind when Jonathan asks about his school again. In time, he'll forget.

 

They eat the remaining fruit from the welcome basket on the balcony, Jonathan pointing out the people on the beach below and shrieking in excitement when he spots J.D. on the balcony adjacent.

 

Jensen sleeps all the while until Jonathan, who’s been told they can’t go swimming without him, jumps on the bed directly on Jensen’s chest.

 

To Jared’s surprise, Jensen wakes up smiling, grabbing the boy to tickle him. They wrestle for a bit, Jensen falling back on the white sheets in surrender as Jonathan shrieks in laughter. Their eyes meet over their son’s head, and the seven years of distance fades.

 

Jared finds he can’t look away.

-

 

It quickly becomes clear that this trip is less of a trip and more of  a vacation. Jared thought this trip was for business. It’s no secret that Jensen’s chasing a cocaine score. He’d expected meetings or warehouse visits, maybe some intimidation but nothing. Instead, they visited the Medellin metro cable, riding it up to Arvi Park. They go on guided tours of lush rainforest, hike towering mountains and coffee plantations. Jonathan accumulates an alarming amount of hand crafted toys. The peace lasts. Jared feels like he’s been transported back in time. It’s so quiet, the sound of birds predominant as opposed to traffic and pedestrians.

 

On their fifth day, after lunch at a roadside cantina, they do some sightseeing. The moment Jonathan sees the park and cluster of bright aluminum swings, he lets go of Jared’s hand and runs full throttle. Jared smiles at how happy he looks, and how beleaguered J.D. manages to appear in his straw hat.

 

The park closes at 6, so Jensen charters  a small boat and they sail back down to the hill town. Jonathan falls asleep, head pillowed in his lap and Jared feels so content he thinks he might burst. Further down the river, all the lights have come on and the town is a beautiful gold against the blue dusk.

 

Jonathan stirs, small hand relinquishing his hold on the teddy bear to press his face against Jared’s stomach. He catches Jensen’s eye and the older men gives him a small smile before turning back to the captain.

 

It’s paradise.

 

After Jared puts Jonathan to bed, they go down to check out some of the clubs at Parque Lleras. They’re nearly there before Jensen changes course, takes his hand and tugs him to the deserted beach.  Unsure of Jensen’s mood, Jared follows.  They sit at the shore, close enough that the warm water washes over their toes when the waves roll forward.

 

“Do you think she’s alive?”

 

He hasn’t mentioned her in days.

 

The reminder of the reality that awaits them in New York.

 

“I think we’ve got to believe she is.”

 

Jensen lights a cigar and the rich scent of tobacco makes Jared’s stomach queasy. He hasn’t forgotten about the sugar pill, no matter how much he’s avoiding thinking about it.

 

“I’d rather she die than have to go through any of that…she’s just a kid.”

 

“I know.”

 

I know it hurts.

 

I know you blame yourself.

 

“The Corteses’ did this.”

 

Jared shakes his head grimly. “I’m not blind any longer. I won’t stand in your way Jensen.”

 

“My mother blames me.”

 

“It’s not your fault.”

 

“It is.” Jensen’s eyes are like black pools, filled with an emotion Jared can’t decipher. “I’m the reason. And I’ve. The things I’ve done to you. Things I’ve said. How can I ever…”

 

Jared turns away, watches the crashing waves. “There’s nothing to say.”

 

“Let me get the words out, if just this once.” Jensen turns to face him. “What I did to you...I was wrong.”

 

The words, as sparse as they are, are worth their weight.

 

-

 

Jensen doesn’t know if Jared will turn him away. He hadn’t said a word since they left the beach, since Jensen’s sorry ass apology. Jared didn’t even go get Jonathan from J.D.’s room. They’d just gone to bed.

 

Now, Jensen lays awake, mulls over his own thoughts. He owes a debt to Jared he can never repay. It may be wrong, but he wants this one last time. He wants to show Jared that he’s sorry, in every way. He wants the last time that he touches Jared to be more than fucking, more than what it was.

Keeping his eyes on Jared’s closed lids, Jensen runs his fingers over his chest, tracing the ridges of his lean muscle and teasing a dusky nipple into a hard nub. At the touch, Jared sighs in his sleep, and Jensen turns his face into the fragrant hollow of his neck, inhaling deep. He smells like sweet citrus, skin salt tinged from the ocean.

 

Jensen wants to say he loves him.

 

He wants to say he’s sorry.

 

He needs to say goodbye.

 

Jensen strokes his hand down into Jared’s boxers, circling the warm shaft, feeling it grow and harden in his grip. Jared murmurs softly at his ear, turning to face him. His hazel eyes slit open, meet Jensen’s in silence. But he doesn’t move away.

 

Jensen answers the silent request, lowering his head and sucking Jared into his mouth, relaxing his throat to take him to the hilt.  The scratch of Jared’s nails on his scalp make him moan. He needs to remember this for the nights to come, for the times when he’s alone and missing Jared badly enough to hurt.

 

Looking up, Jensen watches Jared bite his lip on a groan, head falling back against the pillows when Jensen starts a nice, slow rhythm. He’s gorgeous, always has been and always will be. Jensen wants to show him that in action, worship him. He sucks the way he knows Jared likes, alternating between hard and fast and excruciatingly slow, tracing the sensitive vein beneath the leaking head with his tongue as he does. Arching beneath him, Jared pushes further down his throat, choking him, but Jensen doesn’t care, all he cares about is the heat in Jared’s eyes and the fervent pleas for more.

 

When Jared comes, his entire body goes limp; Jensen swallows every drop. Jensen pulls off him slowly, licking over the sensitive tip before pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. He stays down there, brushing his lips over Jared’s soft skin, kissing and licking and sucking until Jared’s hands are in his hair once more, urging him to his tight opening.

 

Jensen teases his tongue at Jared’s entrance, licking over the tiny crease until Jared softens under his ministrations, opens for his fingers. When Jared’s begging, when Jensen is reaching for condoms and lube, they both go still. They don’t speak, but it doesn’t feel like they should.

 

Everything he’s done, and Jared can still look at him that way.

The way he did all those years ago, outside of the church. It’s not what Jensen expects and it’s far from what he deserves, to be given tenderness when he’s only dealt cruelty.

 

Pulling him out of his thoughts, Jared cups his cheek, draws him down to join their mouths in a kiss.  Jensen shudders at the touch and feels his composure slip. He wants to beg Jared stay with him, but he’s lost the right. He owes him his freedom.

 

“Jay.” Jensen whispers, thumb stroking over Jared’s cheeks, as he desperately tries to memorize his dimples and dusting of his moles. “Sweetheart.”

Jared’s nose wrinkles in a laugh. Jensen kisses the sound away. He kisses him like he’s starving making Jared gasp and moan. Enough kisses for a lifetime. And when he slides into Jared, encased by his tight, perfect heat, Jensen feels the maelstrom inside of him subside. They move together then, Jensen plunging deep in slow, measured thrusts and Jared clinging to him for dear life, pupils dilated and eyes focused entirely on him. He’s beautiful like this; takes Jensen’s breath away.

 

Always has.

 

Even after they’ve both come, even after, they stay locked together.

 

Jared’s fingers are still at his cheek, moving through sweaty hair and ending at his lips. There’s a question in Jared’s eyes, one Jensen can’t answer.

 

Jensen sings softly in his ear, the way he did when they were kids, when he’s certain Jared’s at the edge of sleep. “More than a feeling, I begin dreaming...”

 

It’s then that Jared smiles.

Even after.

-

 

When Jared wakes, the space next to him is empty. It doesn’t worry him, not after the last night. Jared smiles against the cool sheets, remembering vividly how it felt to be held. Jensen touched him with reverence, like he was something beautiful and special—the way he used to. It had been markedly different from the past months.

 

It felt like the start of something new.

 

A beginning.

 

Still smiling, Jared rolls over, stretching as he goes and stills. Jensen is sitting across from him in a black chair, fully dressed and pensive. 

 

“Morning.” Jared says uncertainly, pushing his tangled hair out of his face self-consciously. "What's wrong?"

 

“Take a shower and get dressed.”

 

The words are cold and flat… like before. Jensen is looking through him. Last night, Jensen had made love to him but now he was treating him like a stranger.

 

Jared hesitates, confused at the change in his demeanor. “Are we going back to New York?”

 

“You are.” Jensen replies. He rises, buttons his suit jacket and snaps his cuff links on in a bored manner. “Matt will take you.”

 

Before Jared can stop himself, he hears his own voice ask, plead. “Why?

 

“When you get back, pack all your things. I want you out of the house by Friday.”  Jensen continues walking away. “Jonathon too.”

 

The words cut like a knife.

“No.”

Jensen stops, back tense as he stands in front of the door. He doesn’t turn around. “You’re not wanted.”

"That's not true."

"I'm not going to repeat myself. You think your ass is that good? Dime a dozen, Jared." 

“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” Jared gets up, ignoring his own nakedness. He yanks Jensen around to face him.  “Why are you doing this?”

“I’ve enjoyed pretending but I’m not a family man, Jared.” Jensen drawls. “Never will be. So take the kid and go.”

****

 

Jared is alone, fingers digging into the pale silk bed covers. He hasn’t seen Jensen since he was escorted from the hotel room. He hasn’t seen anyone but J.D. The older man brings him food and books, offers him the car if he needs to go anywhere but he always declines.

Word is Jensen isn’t even in the city anymore. He doesn’t know why he stays.

 

“He’s not coming back.” J.D. tells him over breakfast two days later. “Not until you’re gone.”

 

Jared crumbles the dry toast between his fingers and leaves the table.

 

Once in the hall, he calls his father.

 

-

 

Chad’s apartment is small, but it’s temporary and most importantly, safe.  In the end, Jared hadn’t been able to bring himself to take Jonathan to his childhood home. It was bad enough the little boy kept asking after Jensen. Chad proves to be a great distraction, playing video games with him and showing him his vast collection of Marvel action figures.

 

The couch in Chad’s living room pulls out. The mattress is thin and Jared can feel each spring in the box. Jonathan goes out like a light the moment his head hits the pillow, but Jared remains awake, stomach roiling.

 

Chad makes him some tea. “You feeling ok?”

 

“Yeah.” Jared swallows hard on the nausea, beneath the sheets he touches his flat stomach reverently. “Must be coming down with something.”

 

When he was pregnant before, Jared just had a feeling. He’d woken up and felt different.  When the test had confirmed his suspicions, he felt fear but when Jensen had looked at him, he’d finally felt joy. He’d wanted to be part of his own family.

 

Now, all Jared can think about perversely is his first pregnancy, of the pain that robbed him of the final scraps of his self-worth.  Back then he’d been too much of a child to protect his baby, too naïve.

 

This time would be different.


	16. All These Things That I've Done

 

 

 

 

Over and again, last call for sin

While everyone's lost, the battle is won

With all these things that I've done

All these things that I've done

 

All These Things That I’ve Done| The Killers

 

 

Don’t get caught.

 

It’s been ingrained in Jensen from the moment he cold clocked the first scumbag to renege on Donnie. It was how he survived, kept his head down and built an empire rooted in fear and force. Jensen may have killed his mentor, but he appreciated everything he taught.

 

But the time for that is over. He’s lost it all, betrayed everything he thought he believed in. More than the rage is the weariness. He’s tired.

 

Rose is gone, and he accepted, with difficulty, that it’s for good. 

 

It’s been too long. Mark’s people had her en route to Russia, then New Orleans, and then Nevada.  Jensen wouldn’t be surprised if the next piece of false information they’re fed has her going to the fucking moon.

 

The message is clear in the silence.

 

The Cortese have closed ranks, and no number of bruised knuckles and baseball bats gets even the lowest member to squeal. If they knew anything to begin with. The bodies are piling up and the police are getting antsy. But Jensen realizes something that keeps him going. It may not get his sister back, but skinning a man alive knits something together in him. His sanity.

 

Genevieve wasn’t rogue in turning, she was following orders. The Cortese have flipped and are in bed with the blue. They’ve got nothing left and that it’s a dangerous thing. Jensen knows because he’s standing at the same crossroad.

 

All he has left is this; revenge.

 

Notoriety.

 

Everyone knows that a bust is coming down; they’re all waiting for it. People have noticed Genevieve’s disappearance and too many of his runners have come up floating in the Hudson. He’s not sure if it’s Cortese exactly, wouldn’t be too surprised if someone new was staking a claim. What does surprise him is how much he doesn’t care.

 

It used to be that he’d give his life for this business, because his worth was directly related to how much drugs he moved or the respect he commanded out of fear. He needed to be on top, he needed the power and control.

 

Not anymore.

 

Jensen’s given everything for the sake of nothing. It’s a bitter truth to swallow. He humiliated Jared, someone who he loved, someone he loves, and treated him no better than a whore. All Jared had done was try and protect him, as well as a scared pregnant kid could. Jensen may not be a Cortese, he may not deal in flesh, but he dealt with Jared that way. He persistently disregarded the truth and Jared, always stubborn, always strong, was too proud to tell him and determined to take it.

 

That’s why it doesn’t matter how many disappointed looks J.D. sends his way. What else can Jensen do to make this right but give Jared his freedom? Years ago, Jensen took something precious from Jared. After his innocence, after his trust, he’d taken the lie and he’d believed. He let Jared remain with a sadistic, psychopath when all he had to do was look a little closer. And while he fed on his hate, Jared lived with being beaten and raped. He made the sacrifice to save Jensen’s life and their son’s. He’d lived with the guilt of believing his child died in his arms.

 

The sad truth is: Jared’s always trusted the wrong people, Jensen included.

 

So, Jensen gave it back, gave Jared back his life, back his child and his freedom. Because as much as it killed him, as much as he wanted to hold on to his little family, it could never be real.

 

The first domino has fallen. Robbie was busted Wednesday night leaving _Prick_. Jensen likes to think he won’t cut a deal, old Irish stock and all, but he’s not green. Not many men hold up when facing life. When the dust settles, Jensen suspects his handsome mug will be front-page news and he’ll be catching one way bus ride to Attica.

 

Yes, Jensen is going down, but it will be on his terms.

 

“Got a light?”

 

Matt sits down next to him and Jensen hands him a match. Just a few short months ago, they’d brought the city to flames, and watched it all from here. Jensen had thought that was their grand finale. He knows now that it’s not.

 

After a few inhalations, Matt passes Jensen the cigar. It’s good; rich and earthy Cuban. Got to savor each one while he can.

 

“Remember how Will used to fuck around with chemicals?” Jensen watches the smoke filter into the city sky. “When he got through with the Jameson brothers, they were nothing but two quarts of slop.”

 

“I miss the crazy bastard.” Matt grins, flicking ash. “What are you thinking?”

 

“We can’t give the feds a body, gotta give the attorney some wiggle room.”

 

Matt smiles slowly, understanding dawning. “No body. No crime?”

 

“They don’t need a body to convict me.” Jensen says. “The night we went by her place, someone saw something, they’re talking about a witness.”

 

It’s the end.

 

To his credit, Matt doesn’t react, just leans back in his chair. He snags the cigar back from Jensen, jaw tight. It’s the only sign that he even understood what Jensen said.  Music filters up to the balcony from the street below, the chords recognizable. The poignant strands of a g chord.

 

_Porque nos dijimos adios._

 

The moonlight catches the dark sweep of Matt’s lashes, the hard cut of his jaw. In another life, Matt could’ve been much more. He’s astute and intelligent, analytical. Jensen wonders what he’s thinking right now, if he’s accepting that this is the way their story ends. If he’s thinking about J.D. and the life they’ll never have.

 

“I’m not doing a life bid.” Matt finally speaks, voice hoarse with smoke. “Can’t.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“What do you want to do?”

 

This could be the time to offer an escape, give Matt the out Jensen knows he wants, but he can’t make the words come. It should mean something, that Matt’s been by his side throughout all these years, that he’s shed blood for him and killed for him and still has nightmares of his father.

 

It should mean he deserves a chance, at something. It should.

 

Jensen pulls him close, always close. “Go down swinging.”

 

-

 

The mood at the dinner table is subdued.

 

They’re three men short.

 

Will and Ben are pushing daisies, Robbie’s remaining tight lipped for the moment and has been denied bail for the trouble. Jensen had been wrong, he’s facing more than life. If he’s extradited, it’s the needle.

 

They’re still the most powerful men in this city.

 

At least for tonight.

 

For the time being, no one discusses the reason why they’ve gathered. They eat and drink, play grab ass with the pretty waitresses. It’s loud and normal, Jensen wonders if he should kill them all and tie up every loose end. But before he can indulge that thought, the plates are cleared away and brandy is being poured.

 

Mark and Johnny have eager looks on their faces, and Jensen knows they’re expecting him to have a way out. They’re both wrong and right. They won’t like what he has to say, but they’ll accept it.

 

The way the Family survives is by being present but also unassuming. Jensen is going to eliminate not only the witness but federal agents; then he’ll go back and annihilate the remaining members of the Cortese family for good measure once he’s done with Jared’s father. He’d been right about the new group pushing in; imports from Chicago headed by James Burke. Jensen is going to meet with him after he’s cleaned up here.

 

As soon as the white noise machine starts, Mark begins to speak.

 

“It took a helluva a lot of cash and some hacker nerd a MIT, but the footage from Ben’s is in.”

 

Jensen hadn’t been expecting that. He picks up his glass, studies the dark whiskey. He wonders if Burke will keep any of them alive. “Who’s on it?”

 

“Only one person, boss: Chase.”

 

The glass almost falls from Jensen’s hand; almost.

 

_

 

“You killed Ben.”

 

Chace doesn’t bother to feign ignorance. His expression remains the same. He shrugs, lifting a strawberry to his mouth before taking a bite. “It’s not as if he gave me any choice.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I needed him to keep his mouth shut.”

 

“And Will?”

 

“You can’t pin that one on me.” Chace smirks, leaning back to settle a hand over his expanding stomach. “That was a mob hit. Or was it the Federal Government? Where would I even get a machine gun?”

 

“You took out one of my best men.”

 

He scoffs. “I know the guy is dead and all, but come on, he was nowhere near your best man.”

 

“He belonged to me.” It’s there, the truth, it always was. “Jonathan, that’s why you killed him. He was going to tell me I was a father.”

 

Chace’s expression goes malicious and his eyes are like flint.  “And you’re this baby’s father too.”

 

“I’ll wait for the amniocentesis prove that.”  Jensen snarls, panting with the fury he must suppress. “You may want to wipe that smug look off your face. Because you? You’re an incubator. The moment my kid is out of you, I’m going to gut you like the pig you are.

 

“Why would you do that to someone who loves you?”

 

“You’re nothing.” Jensen replies coldly, making sure Chace hears every word he enunciates. “You wanted to be more to me? Fine. You’re my enemy, a bitch on a long list of people who are worth more dead than alive.”

 

“What will that accomplish?” There’s a waver in Chace’s voice, for the first time he’s affected. “It won’t bring _him_ back. He will _never_ come back to you. He doesn’t understand your life, he doesn’t understand the man you are. I do, and I accept it, every ugly truth.”

 

“You haven’t begun to see what I’m capable of, little prince.” Jensen laughs softly, tracking the shudder that goes through the younger man’s body. “But you will.”

 

-

 

“You know you can stay here for as long as you need, right? I said that a million times. In fact, I like having you here. I like the rug rat running around. I have a legitimate excuse to buy Capri Suns and ice cream sandwiches.”

 

“I know.” Jared replies, but he’s got to start thinking long term solutions. The more he deliberates, the more he knows he can’t stay in New York. The city is poison, along with the people in it. He’ll never be free of the Family here. “But Sonny deserves a normal life, as normal as I can give him.”

 

“And you think Meredith is going to give him that? The lady is still hopped up on sedatives. She’s literally a zombie.”

 

Chad’s not exaggerating.  Meredith is broken, but maybe having her grandson with her will do her some good. Jared thinks about her ranch, it’s rundown but peaceful. He’d felt so safe amongst the wildflowers and the consistent babbling of the creek.  He wants that feeling for Jonathan.

 

“I think she needs us right now.”

 

“I don’t know about that, Jay.” Chad persists. “I mean, with what’s all over the news, wouldn’t it be better if you stayed with your Dad? He’s got the muscle to protect you.”

 

It’s so far from the truth that Jared wants to laugh. “I’ll be better off in Texas.”

 

Chad looks at him for a long moment. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

 

It’s impossible to have a friendship with lies, and there are so many between them.

 

Genevieve is a human trafficker. Jensen is going to murder his family. Jared’s having Jensen’s baby. Again. They’re involved in an underworld that is poised to swallow them whole.

 

“I’m being honest with you.” Jared forces a smile, hopes it doesn’t look as brittle as it feel. “We need to get away from the city.”

 

-

 

It’s near noon when Jensen is awakened by J.D.’s loud footsteps. Kristen stirs next to him, groaning when the blinds are snapped open and harsh light spills into the bedroom. He can’t remember most of the previous night and he appreciates that. There’s dried blood under Kristen’s nose but she’s still mostly dressed. He counts that as a good thing. Kristin isn’t Chace, but she might be. He doesn’t need another little bastard running around.

 

“Time to go.” J.D. hauls Kristin up by her forearm, pulling the protesting woman towards the door. Kristin can be a real bitch in the morning, yelling and clawing but J.D. tosses her out the door just the same. Shit, she’s only got on a t-shirt, no panties. “See Matt before you leave.”

 

Matt will slip her a morning after.

 

Jensen squints at J.D. “I didn’t fuck her.”

 

J.D. ignores him.

 

“You can’t keep on like this.” J.D. kicks trash out of his way, sorting through the various empty bottles lining the dresser before tossing them into the waste bin. He stops when he reaches the faint white lines and cut down straw on the night stand. “Jensen, man, what the fuck? Since when do you do your own shit?”

 

“Better for customer relations.”

 

“Jensen.”

 

“Jeff, if you’re not speaking business get the fuck out before I empty a round into your overgrown ass, Matt or not.”

 

“I’m not leaving you. I know what you’re planning and…”

 

“And what?” Jensen gets up from bed. He doesn’t care that he’s naked. “You’re a dumb son of a bitch, you know that? What about all that talk about Montana?”  He laughs nastily. “Don’t you wanna waltz off into the sunset, spawn some brats and live off the fat of the land?”

 

J.D.’s jaw tightens. “He tell you that?”

 

“ _Fairytales_.” Jensen snarls spitefully. “You look at me and hear this: that’s _never_ going to happen.”

 

J.D. remains silent.

 

“It won’t.” Jensen’s repeats, he can feel something in him swelling when he sees the doubt growing in J.D.’s gaze. This is the way it should be. Since the beginning, since the rails, it’s always been the two of them. “People like Mattie and me? We’re not built for it, _we don’t want it_.”

 

“You love your boy Jensen, and you love Jared.  You can’t fake that emotion, nobody, not even you, is that much of a sociopath. I know that you’re going to hit the Agent’s safe house, and it’s senseless, not to mention fucking stupid. You think there’s no way out, you think you need to be punished but you’re _wrong_.”

 

“You don’t know shit.”

 

“You’re going to hand over to Burke everything you worked for?”

 

“Mine to give away.”

 

“For Attica? You’re not a matyr; you don’t have to be.”

 

“Stop talking like you know me.” Jensen shakes him off . “Mattie’s the only one who does.” He stands toe to toe with J.D. “Between me and Montana? There would be no choice at all.”

 

“You’d take him down with you?”

 

“Where else would he be?”

 

-

 

It’s hot, and it’s not just Jared’s hormones. What’s that saying? That Texas is closer to the sun or some bullshit. Jared thinks it may be just a touch nearer to the burning lake fire of hell. The heat in the summer months is brutal, rays stretching out over the fields till you think you can see it moving over the hills in waves.

 

But Jonathan loves it. He especially adores the tire swing in the yard and catching tadpoles barefoot when they’re hit with a bout of rain. Jared’s relieved to see him acting like a child again. The first time he cried and asked to go back to the nuns, Jared felt like crying along with him.

 

Time has made a difference, not just in Jared. Jonathan’s grown, skin tan and freckling over his cheeks and nose. His hair hangs messy over his ears and Jared nearly cries for the first haircut he is a part of.  Jared catalogues every change in him with his camera. Meredith is featured in many of the photos, she and Jonathan are like two peas in a pod. The shadows are still there, the wondering in her eyes that Jared knows will never leave, but she’s living again. She’s alive again.

 

In the weeks since their arrival, the house begins to feel like home. Meredith accepted them with open arms and without question when Jared arrived on her front porch out of the blue.

She doesn’t speak of Jensen, and Jared doesn’t either. The room that was once Rose’s is nailed shut, and Jared touches the long metal sealing the memories in conscious of Meredith’s gaze.

 

When the mac and cheese has been plated, and carrots strained, Jared opens the porch door to yell to Jonathan, sidestepping when Harley sprints inside, tongue lolling and goes straight for his water bowl.  “Sonny! Lunch is on the table!”  


“Almost, Papa!” Sweat plasters his hair to his head but Jonathan is grinning wide. “Come play with us.”

 

“Maybe later.”

 

Meredith watches the exchange, a faint smile on her lips. “Too much of his father in him.”

 

She’s yet to comment on Jared’s pregnancy, but it’s impossible to miss. Jared’s carrying high and big. He’s rounding five months but looks much bigger. His pregnancy progresses as normally as it can give the circumstances but going out in the Texas sun will lay him out flat. As it is, the smell of Jonathan’s favored barbeque chicken is making him nauseous.

 

“Sonny!” Jared calls again, putting some steel in his voice.

 

The boy stops short, sneakered feet skidding in the dirt.

 

That always gets him.

 

Jonathan comes in with Sadie, and Jared helps him wash up at the sink, listening to his chatter with a smile. Jonathan pulls a face when Jared wipes his forehead with a damp cloth.

 

“Ugh! Papa!” Jonathan wriggles away and Jared’s heart skips a beat. He looks so much like Jensen. “I’m clean already.”

 

Meredith laughs, already seated at the table. Jonathan sits across from her, grabbing a butter roll and biting into it with relish.

 

“Slow down.” Jared tells him out of habit before he eases himself down into his seat. He swears that the pain in his back makes it feel like he’s ready to deliver. Nothing he can do about it, cramps the doc says.

 

“How’re you feeling?” Meredith asks timidly noticing his wince. “Back acting up?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“I made sweet potato mash this time, think you can stomach it?”

 

Jared takes a few bites and smiles at her in thanks.

 

-

 

Chace is hanging from the chandelier, one brown loafer dangling from his left foot.

 

Jensen stands frozen, looks at the slight curve of his stomach. He can’t find it in himself to be sorry for Chase’s death but it’s regrettable that the child shared his fate.

 

“He offed himself.” Matt states the obvious.

 

“You don’t sound surprised.”

 

“Saves us the trouble.” Matt picks up papers from the coffee table. He scans the words, before folding the letter up into his pocket. “The DNA test came back.”

 

“I’m not the father?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Guess he figured it’d be better to go out his way.” Jensen sighs. “Get J.D. to cut him down.”

 

“Left for a few days.” Matt says flatly. He whips out his pocket knife and climbs on top of the table, sawing at the silk tie angrily. “I’ll get rid of him.”

 

“Jeff didn’t tell me he was going anywhere, he doesn’t have permission.”

 

“Don’t.” Matt looks down at him darkly.  “Ok?”

 

Jensen clenches his teeth. “When’s he coming back?”

 

“I don’t know, a few days.”

 

The silk strands break and the corpse comes crashing to the floor.

 

Jensen feels a weight come off his chest.  “You want to see how fast Will’s acid works?”

-

 

It feels perfectly normal. Jared’s waiting with the other parents outside of the school in Meredith’s rundown Silverado. School has been out for a few minutes, and Jared can see Jonathan’s blond head in the crowd, but his son isn’t running straight for him like he did the first few weeks. He’s standing amid a group of boys, hands spread wide as he says something that sends the kid next to him into raucous laughter.

 

Because he needs some fresh air, Jared cuts the engine and steps outside. He’d stopped by Benny’s Diner beforehand, and his chocolate milkshake is only slightly melted. When he’d been pregnant with Jonathan, his thing had been sour gummies; anything sour really. This baby’s thing is chocolate, Jonathan enjoys the fringe benefits.

 

Predictably, as soon as he spots the white cup, Jonathan breaks away from his little friends.

 

“Papa!” Jonathan hugs him, before tugging him forward. “Calvin says that he’s gotta pool at his house.”

 

“Does he?” Jared grins when his milkshake is yanked brusquely out of his hand. “That’s nice.”

 

“A-and I can go swimming in it if you say ok! His dad says so. Anytime we want!” He slurps.  “He’s got floaties at his house so I don’t have to even know how to swim, Papa.”

 

“We’ll—”

 

“He’s having a birthday party too! And he said they’re gonna have lots of candy and Spiderman is gonna come cause his Dad knows him.” He produces a brightly colored invitation from his backpack. It’s the cheap cardstock available in drug stores all across small town America. “I still think _Avengers_ are way cooler. But can I go Papa? Can I?”

 

“We’ll see.” Jared waves to presumably Calvin’s father, a nice enough looking man standing next to a Camaro, before helping Jonathan into the car. He’s not ready to go that far. “C’mon, Grandma’s waiting on us. She made fried chicken.”

 

It’s late in the evening and Jonathan’s been put to bed when Jared next thinks about it. As a child, he was never allowed anywhere, not with anyone who wasn’t in the family. Jared never had playdates or went to birthday parties. The only people he socialized with were his cousins and his father’s men. His classmates eventually stopped asking and Jared had been astute enough to understand his father would never agree. He’d been lonely.

 

But Jonathan’s childhood doesn’t have to be that way. Here, in this anonymous little town, he has a chance at normal. It’s _normal_ for kids to go swimming and have crappy piñata filled birthday parties complete with grocery store cake. Jonathan should have that, especially after his isolated beginnings.

 

Next to him, Meredith inhales sharply.

 

Jensen’s on the television, walking down the steps of the court house in a black suit. The strangely bubbly and simultaneously serious blonde reporter is talking about a DEA raid, and the death of a special agent. They’re calling it the moral victory of the century. Mayor beaming with pride from ‘cleaning up the streets.’

 

A half ton of coke and a grieving widow whose too angry to be intimidated.

 

Fucking Jensen.

 

Meredith shakes her head, face tired. “He’s the only hell I’ve ever raised.”

 

Jared doesn’t hear a word she says; the charges have his full attention.


	17. In The Aeroplane Over The Sea

And one day we will die

And our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea

But for now we are young

Let us lay in the sun

And count every beautiful thing we can see 

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea | Matt Pond PA

 

Jensen blinks once, twice.

 

Is he hallucinating? He doesn’t think he took that much.

 

Jared’s standing in front of him; face fuller, tan and glowing. Jensen wonders where he’s been.  He’s got Sonny with him, but too much time has passed. The boy is hiding behind Jared’s leg. But that may have to do with Loki snarling.

 

Jensen taps the big dog on the nose once, and he lays down obediently, eyes tracking their movements warily.

 

“Hey.” Jared says.

 

Jensen takes a hesitant step forward, and then stops.

 

Jared’s pregnant.

 

Far along looks like, and Jensen isn’t an idiot, it’s his. It’s what he’d been hoping for when he switched out the pills. Now he just feels sorry, makes him think of Chace.

 

“I thought I told you not to come back.”

 

“No.” Jared lifts his chin, stare measuring and emotionless. “You said you didn’t want me.”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“I’m not here for you.” Jared turns to bend down in front of Jonathan. “Sonny, you remember J.D., right?”

 

Jonathan nods. “From the phone.”

 

The disloyalty hits Jensen hard. J.D. calling them behind his back. Jeff either doesn’t have the decency or intelligence to look repentant. He just sidles up to them like he’s got the right.

 

“Hey, sonny.” Jeff ruffles the boy’s hair affectionately. “How about you and I go get that triple chocolate milkshake I was telling you about?”

 

“The one with the donuts and cupcakes on the straw?”

 

“You bet.”

 

Jonathan drops Jared’s hand and grabs Jeff’s. “Yes!” The excitement is evident on the flush of his cheeks but he still looks to Jared for permission.

 

Jared gives him a reassuring smile and a slight push in Jeff’s direction. “Why don’t you go on with him while I talk to your Dad.”

 

The pair disappear down the hallway and Jensen listens to their fading voices, tamping down on his anger. The ease of conversation implies familiarity. J.D. has obviously been in touch these past months. Jensen wonders if he knew about the pregnancy and hid it from him, but dismisses the thought. Jeff may be a lot of things but he’s honest. A kid would’ve been the perfect excuse to start in on him.

 

Jensen’s hands clench into fists at his side, he needs a drink.

 

“Why’re you here?”

 

“Not for you.” Jared replies, hands rising to close his jacket over his stomach. Belatedly, Jensen realizes he’s been staring. “Genevieve.”

 

Jensen turns away to pour himself a drink, takes his time to make a martini garnished with olives before he faces Jared once more. “What about her?”

 

“She’s not dead.”

 

“Do I have to explain to you what a murder charge means?”

 

“For the agent, maybe, but you didn’t kill her.” Jared articulates resolutely. “I know you didn’t.”

 

“You think I’m soft?”

 

“The opposite. You’d keep her alive to make her suffer.”

 

Jensen’s fingers tighten imperceptibly on the glass. “Again, why are you here?”

 

“Let me talk to her.”

 

“No.”

 

“You owe me, Jensen.” Jared hisses. “You owe me this.”

 

“No.”

 

“You don’t know what I know.” Jared yanks his arm, forces Jensen to meet his eyes. “The day your charges came down, I spoke to Philomena.”

 

“And?”

 

“What Genevieve did to me, it was…. It was the worst kind of betrayal, but she can still do some good. For you.”

 

Jensen snorts in disbelief.

 

“She knows where your sister is Jensen. Philomena heard the men talking, and she trusted me enough to say it. Your sister is alive and Genevieve was behind it, not her father.”

 

“If she did she would’ve said by now.”

 

Jared shakes his head. “You don’t know Gen; she won’t break, not with what you’re doing.”

 

Jensen’s accepted a lot of things these past months.  He accepted that his mother is disgusted by him when she didn’t take a single call. He accepted that he’s likely going to spend the rest of his life in a concrete block. He accepted that he would never have a family. He accepted that Rose would be lost, joining the parade of soulless sex trafficked women.

 

The hope that he can get her back, do one right thing before he does his time, is too tempting to pass up.

 

“You think you can get her to talk?”

 

“I know I can.”

 

-

 

The night of his wedding, Jared danced with Genevieve under a myriad of twinkling lights. She had kept him together. They’d been christened weeks apart, confirmed on the same day. Jared remembers how excited she’d been to be a bride, even if it was a bride of Christ.  She had been the same on his wedding, brightly smiling and lending him joy on a dark day. He’d been so grateful to have her hand in his because he’d felt alone in a room of three hundred people.

 

Now, here she is, in a dark room. She’s seated on the only piece of furniture in the shipping container, a wooden chair. Her arms and legs are unbound. The smell is enough to make his eyes water.

 

Her expression is unadulterated shock when her eyes focus on him, she hadn’t been expecting him. She opens her mouth, then closes it. Like a fish out of water. She’d been thin before, but now she’s gaunt, face skeletal and hair thin. There are chunks of it missing from the left side of her scalp.

 

“Why?” Jared asks, because that’s all there is left to say. “Why would you keep something like that from me?”

 

“I was protecting you.” Genevieve replies. “I was protecting your son.”

 

_Jared looks down at the unmoving baby, takes in the blue lips so like Jensen’s and tiny closed eyes. His lashes are long, fair and perfectly formed. It looks like he’s sleeping._

 

The dead infant had been real. He knows that. “Whose body did I bury?”

 

“One of our girls had a still birth.” This time she drops her eyes. “It was fate.”

 

“Your girls?” Jared repeats contemptuously. “You mean one of the kids you turned out?”

 

“Yes.” The lack of denial surprises him. “One of them. I can see what you think of me, but I had no choice. If my brother or father knew, they’d make sure he was dead. I did it to protect him, to protect Jonathan. I’m the reason he’s alive.”

 

“You _stole_ him from me and lied to me for years. And all the while, you called yourself my friend.”

 

“Jared.” Genevieve licks her lips, it’s a useless gesture as cracked as they are. Her eyes are pleading. “Just listen to me, trust me.”

 

“You’re not who you pretended to be. I know, Genevieve, _everything_. Your mother has a guilty conscience.  Selling girls into prostitution? And using the clinic…to groom potential victims? And the orphanage, selling them off to the highest bidder. Those people who buy them, do you know what they do to children? Do you even care?” Jared sucks in a breath, trembling. “Would you have done the same to Jonathan when he was older?”

 

“Even if I denied it, you wouldn’t believe me.” She says evenly. “I’m not going to collapse, Jared, if you think I’m going to cry and beg for forgiveness…if that’s what you’re looking for, you won’t find it. I did what I had to for the Family.”

 

“Those teens came to us for support and help, and you pushed them into prostitution and drugs? How can you live with that?”

 

“And your precious Jensen is so much better.” Genevieve hisses, tone vehement. “You think he doesn’t cause hundreds of deaths?  He _murdered_ my husband, Jared. Enzo was a brother to you! There wasn’t even a body left to bury. We were your _family_ and you willingly went to him, spread your legs for---”

 

“To stop the violence.”

 

“Bullshit.” Genevieve sits back down on the chair, crosses her arms and looks up to him defiantly. “Is that what you told yourself? You did it for you, Jared. For you. You fucked him when he had our blood on his hands. Jensen is a murderer and a sociopath! He’s ruined our lives. How can you love someone like that?”

 

There’s some truth to her words, but it’s not going to stop the inevitable. Jared has faults, Jensen many more, but he’s right in this.

 

“I loved you, didn’t I?”

 

The façade crumbles, just a little bit. Behind her mask is vulnerability, and fear.

 

“I’m giving you a chance.” Jared breaks her stare, tamping down on the remnants of his emotions. “One chance to make it right. You’re going to die, I’m sure you know that, but you don’t have to die with me hating you.”

 

“You wanted peace above all else. Jensen has to be gone for that to happen.”

 

“I would’ve never hurt the people I love to get it.”

 

“No.” She chides softly, fingers skipping over the molten bruises and scars on her arms. “You have to be the victim.”

 

“One chance, Gen.”

 

She clears her throat. “What do you want?”

 

“Jensen’s sister.”

 

“Why do you care?”

 

“She’s a kid, a trusting kid who has nothing to do with this life.” Jared can only stare at her. “Were you always this way? Did you ever have a soul or decency in you?”

 

“You could learn something from me, Jared. I was never at the mercy of others. Never the victim.”

 

“No, you were the victimizer.”

 

“I protected myself, and when you needed me to, I protected you.” They both know she’s talking about Salvatore. “Did you forget that?”

 

“Any gratitude I owed you is wiped clean.” Jared reaches into the back of his waistband and watches her face as she recognizes the glock. She should, it’s her brothers. “I hope you’ve made your peace with God.”

“Wait.”

 

Jared stops.

 

“Nicky.” She whispers. Her brown eyes shine with tears and it’s almost his undoing. “He’s going to need someone to look over him. Enzo’s gone, his uncles, his cousins, my sister…there’s no one left. Chad doesn’t understand our world and wouldn’t know how to make sure he’s safe in it. Please, Jared.”

 

“He’s got your parents.”

 

“No one cares about him, loves him, like you do.” It’s then Jared sees it, beneath the bravado she’s scared. He guesses everyone is when faced with the end. “You’re his godfather. No matter what you feel for me, he’s defenseless.”

 

Jared thinks of the children at the orphanage, sold to faceless men. The vulnerable woman trafficked into the Cortese brothels, broken in and broken down to husks. He doesn’t want to become like her, to lose the human part of him, even if it makes him weak.

“I’ll look after him.”

“Thank you.” Genevieve’s voice catches, her thin shoulders are shaking. She stands to her feet, swaying once before resolutely gripping the back of the chair for support. “I can’t be sorry for them, but one day I hope you understand why I did the things I did.”

 

He should be able to look her in the eye when he does this but there’s something still there. The memories of how they were. His best friend, his sister. Maybe it shows on his face, because Genevieve turns around to face the wall, her back to him.

 

“Miami, Liberty City. The Green Light.”

 

Jared pulls the trigger, closing his eyes against the warm spray that stains his face.

 

-

 

Jensen’s waiting for him when he pushes open the steel door. He takes in the blood and matter splattered over his face and chest. “You look good like that.”

 

Jared walks past him into the bathroom. He looks at his face, tastes the blood and vomits into the metal sink. His head is spinning, chest heaving.

 

“You ok?”

 

“Why do you care?” Jared spits out bile and runs water to help the rest down. He’s unsteady and hates himself for it. There’s a code in their world, and she violated it.  This is the only way it could have ended. At least with him, it was easy. “I shouldn’t care.”

 

“It’s the good in you.” Jensen hands him a towel to wipe his face. “I’m glad you haven’t lost it.”

 

“Everyone in my life has taken advantage of that.”

 

“That just means they’re shit.”

 

Jared can feel Jensen behind him, warmth radiating against his back. “And what does that make you, Jensen?”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you Jared.”

 

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

 

“Because I’ve lost that part of me… you deserve better. Jonathan deserves better.” Jared goes rigid when Jensen’s hand comes around his waist, fingers light over his distended stomach. “You all do.”

 

“Keep telling yourself that.” Jared shoves his hands off him, pushing Jensen against the wall.  The baby is kicking. “Sit here in the dark, drink and fuck your life away as penance. Go ahead, do it. _I don’t give a fuck_. But don’t try and make it like you’re doing me a favor because…” The tears are in the back of his throat. “Because you’re not. You’re taking the easy way out.”

 

“Does my life seem easy to you?”

 

“Even after… even after everything,” Jared’s screaming now. “You know what I feel for you and you…you don’t want to face me, a life with me.”

 

The words stay between them for long seconds, as they stare at one another.

 

“The government will never stop coming after me.” Jensen says quietly. “I can let you go if it means you’ll be safe.”

 

Jared shakes his head in disbelief, scrubbing at the blood on his face. Belatedly, he tosses the gun into the basin. Jensen will get rid of it, not like Jared knows how. The magnitude of what he’s just done, what his life is crushing him. Worse, he must face it alone.

 

Jensen touches his hand, but Jared pulls away.

 

“Liberty city.” Jared chokes out once he’s made it over to the door. “Rose is set up at a place called _The Green Light_.”

 

-

 

The halogen lights are flickering.

 

His men have gone ahead to dispense of the bodyguards. Through the blood and broken bodies, she’s there. She’s waiting inside of the car, huddled beneath a blanket.

 

Rose looks up when the door opens and Jensen’s stomach drops. Her face is thin, long hair shorn to her ears and dyed a garish red. She doesn’t react to his presence, simply stares at him. He can see the black latex of the scrap of material passing for a dress.

 

“She’s on something.” J.D. whispers. “Pupils dilated, breathing slow.”

 

“Rosie.” Jensen approaches her cautiously. She flinches when he touches her shoulder but doesn’t move away. Complacent. He thinks he’s going to be sick. “I…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

Jensen can only repeat those words, loses track of how many times he says it.

 

-

 

Sleep is impossible that night. Even a thousand miles away from Miami, he feels like he’s standing outside of those doors. He’d been right. Rose is dead. The girl they found was who she became to survive.

 

Searching for water, Jensen walks down the stairs on silent feet, he can hear voices in the kitchen. He pauses outside of the door.

 

“—time, now?” Matthew’s voice.

 

“We talked about this.” J.D. replies. “I’m going to see my folks.”

 

A beat of silence.

 

The scrape of a chair. “You’re not coming back.”

 

“I’m going to see my folks.”

 

“Jeff, don’t.”

 

“Don’t what?”

 

“Just give me some time.”

 

“There isn’t enough time, never will be for you.” J.D. makes a sound of frustration. “But I…I’ve had it. I’m done.”

 

Jensen moves forward, looks in to the dimly lit kitchen. Jeff’s at the counter, Matt’s in front of him, hands framing his face.

 

“I want to.”

 

_But I can’t._

The words aren’t spoken but they’re there.

 

“You’ve made your choice.”

 

“ _Jeff_.”

 

Jensen’s pictured this moment for years. He’s imagined it since Matthew first looked in Jeff’s direction and didn’t look away. Jensen thought he’d feel vindicated, reassured because he’s always known Matthew needs him. Would choose him.

 

But he feels none of those things. He watches Jeff move Matthew’s hands away from his face gently, kiss the inside of his wrist, before he stands.

 

When Jeff walks away, Matthew left standing there, looks too much like he did when they met.

 

-

 

 

Jared’s awaken from his sleep by insistent pounding on the door. Instinct has him reaching for his gun, before he remembers it’s long gone.

 

Chad’s out in the hallway, hair disheveled and a frying pan in hand. “What the hell?”

 

Jared motions him back. “It’s okay.” He looks through the peephole. Jensen’s on the other side, looking around. He looks anxious, dressed in black slacks and dark blue sweater.  None of his men are with him; he’s alone. “It’s Jensen. Go back to bed.”

 

For a second, Chad looks like he’s going to protest but then does as Jared’s says.

 

Jared opens the door, aware of his bedhead and sleep pants that are too small. “What do you want?”

 

“Rose.” Jensen smiles tentatively. “We found her.”

 

“That’s good.” Jared knew they would. “How is she?”

 

“It’s…” Jensen grimaces. “It’s bad. She’s fucked up, we got her into a facility to dry out.”

 

“Your mom—”

 

“I left Rose in Texas with her.”

 

“That’s a start.” Jared replies slowly.  He studies Jensen’s face but sees nothing more. Meredith must not have told him that she Jared and Jonathan were living with her. “But, uhm, she’s going to need professional help.”

 

“I know.” Jensen inhales sharply, runs a hand over his face. “I ruined her life.”

 

Jared shakes his head. “Genevieve did that.”

 

“Because of me.”

 

“You can’t blame yourself.”

 

“Then who can I blame?” Jensen looks lost. “She’s going to need someone to protect her and I can’t even do that. I spoke to my lawyers. I’m going away Jared, for a long bid.”

 

“They can’t prove you had anything to do with Genevieve.”

 

“It’s not about that anymore; Robbie rolled on me.”

 

“He wouldn’t.”

 

“He did. I’m left holding a half ton tab.” Jensen laughs darkly. “I can’t get to him, he’ll testify against me. And even if I could? The grand jury testimony would be admissible. Do you understand me now? I can’t want you. Because when I care, when I love someone, it all goes to hell. If anything happens--”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“You have to—”

 

“I said shut up.” Jared drags Jensen inside of the apartment, locking the door behind them. “You don’t decide what’s best for me.” Jared looks at him. “Just once, Jensen, forget about our reality and tell me the truth.”

 

“The truth.” Jensen begins haltingly. “The truth is …I’ve loved your cocky ass since you walked out of the fucking church eight years ago and asked for a light. As much as someone like me can feel love.”

 

Jared doesn’t allow himself to react, it won’t help anything. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?” Jensen repeats incredulously.

 

“Yeah” Jared nods. “Okay.” He tugs Jensen close, brushes his lips against his. “Let’s do this.”

 

“Have you been listening to me?”

 

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Jared repeats. “I heard you, you’re going to prison, you destroy everything you love, you’re a sociopath.”

 

“I didn’t say the last part.”

 

Jared kisses him again and Jensen stands there and lets him. “It’s implied.” He takes Jensen’s hand and leads him into the bedroom. Chad’s taken the pullout and from the pillow he’s got jammed over his head, has heard most of their conversation.

 

Chad’s bedroom is small, the bed takes up most of the space, a dresser across.  On the bed, Jonathan is fast asleep, curled up on his stomach.

 

Jensen releases Jared’s hand to go to his side. He touches his cheek, “He’s scared of me.”

 

“He doesn’t know you.”

 

Jared eases himself down on the other side of the bed then scoots over, holding out a hand to Jensen when he stands there. “Come sleep.”

 

Movements awkward, Jensen toes off his shoes and tosses his jacket. He lays down next to Jared. Once he’s settled against the pillows, Jared rolls unto his side, laying his head on his chest. The move brings his belly to Jensen’s side, and Jared can tell by the slight inhalation of breath that he can feel the baby’s movements.

 

“When are you due?”

 

“October.”

 

“Boy or girl?”

 

“Didn’t ask.”

 

“What are we doing here?”

 

“We’re sleeping.”

 

“What does it mean?”

 

“It means that for today, we’re all together.”

 

“And tomorrow?”

 

“Is tomorrow.”

 

Nothing lasts forever.

 

-

 

When Jared wakes the next morning, Jensen’s gone.

 

It’s all over the news the next day, he’s submitted a guilty plea and is awaiting sentencing.

 

-

 

Jared almost didn’t come. He’d seen the message and had every intention of getting on the next plan to Texas. Jared meant to leave this godforsaken city but here he is, walking over hot, sifting sand on Manhattan Beach, his father at his side. Carmine’s yet to comment on Jared’s obvious pregnancy but Jared doesn’t see the censure he expects.

 

They’re near the shore when Carmine speaks. “Jensen had Genevieve killed.”

 

No use in lying, or mincing words. “I did.”

 

If he’s surprised, Carmine doesn’t show it. “How did you do it?”

 

“Single shot.” Jared looks away. “Back of the head.”

 

Carmine looks at him for a long moment, black eyes unreadable. Jared’s seen that assessing gaze before, has watched his father size men up in seconds.

 

“You used to be afraid of thunderstorms.”

 

That catches him off guard. “What?”

 

“Before your Mother passed, whenever it rained, you’d scurry out of your room and into our bed.” He looks out unto the water. “You were like a little puppy, shaking and afraid, a _Cucciolo_. She would kiss your wet cheeks and hold you. I told you there was nothing to be afraid of, that I would always protect you and you’d go right to sleep.” He snaps his fingers. “Like that. I wanted to keep you that way always.”

 

“Afraid?”

 

“Trusting.” Carmine corrects. “I didn’t want this world to stain you; I wanted to keep you the way she was.  Pure. And now… you’re no longer him.”

 

Jared wishes he could feel something, that the affection that he remembers was still there.

 

“I grew up, Dad.”

 

“Your mother, I loved her.”

 

“I know that.”

 

“I don’t think I ever told you.”

 

Jared doesn’t know how to respond, so he says nothing at all. He knows his father’s love for him has always been for his mother.

 

“Jared, look at me.” Years of obeying cause Jared to raise his eyes. His heart thuds in his chest. Carmine is smiling, but it’s through tears. “I’m an old man. My business is gone, my friends have deserted me. I prayed for an opportunity to make things right.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I’m going to turn myself in.”

 

Jared gapes at him, dumbfounded. “For what?”

 

“The Agents’ death, the drugs found at the wharf.”

 

“You didn’t do it.”

 

“I know it’s too late but I’m trying to be the father you deserve. The Feds need to save face. And the way Genevieve was found? They’re frothing at the mouth to bring Jensen down.”

 

“Isn’t that what you want?”

 

“I’ve always wanted you to be happy.” His father’s voice is rough with emotion. "This is the right choice.” He puts his hand against Jared’s face, just for a moment but it’s enough for Jared to break.

 

“Dad…”

 

“Take care of that family of yours.”

-

 

There’s only one memory Jared has left of her, his mother. He’s seen photos, knows she was a slight woman, willowy and delicate. But he has one recollection of his own, locked in his mind and replayed continuously. They’d been at the beach; sun warm on their skin, her hair a cloak of peach scented curls raining down to kiss his shoulders. He’d been small enough to be held against her chest, tickled as she lifted him down into the clear waters only to clasp him close once more when he cried in fright at the waves. He remembers her as strong, a protector.

 

When Carmine is sentenced to one hundred and seventy years he doesn’t buckle beneath the weight. He continues to stand tall, back a straight line beneath the expensive Italian fabric of his suit.

 

The judge is remarking on his crimes, details his callousness, the terror he perpetuated and wishes all sorts of hell for the pain she feels his father imposed.

 

Jared doesn’t hear her words, because Carmine is moving. He turns his head to catch Jared’s eye and he smiles; there’s joy there and Jared wonders at the possibility.  Carmine’s led out of the court room to jeers of the victim’s families and the harsh snaps of the photographer’s camera bulbs going off.

 

His father, never stumbling, still smiling.

 

Strong.

 

That’s how Jared will remember him.

 

 

 


	18. Imagine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I FINISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEDDDDDD!!!
> 
> There are no words, guys, this took years. I went through some dark times, with health issues, but this story never left my mind.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with it, thank you for your encouragement. And I've rewritten and rewritten but I'm leaving it as is, this was my original vision for the fic and i'm sticking to it :)
> 
>  
> 
> xClaudia
> 
> Thank you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT PUT ANY OF MY WORK ON GOODREADS OR OTHER SITES. This is for fun, not for publishing or profit. Please respect my wishes and privacy.

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

 

Imagine | John Lennon

 

The saints are smiling down on them.

Jensen cradles his daughter, three months old today. She’s drowsy, long lashes fluttering over plump cheeks. Her pacifier is lax, nearly falling out of her month. Jensen grins, adjusting her embroidered white hat. She’s his angel, small and sweet; proof of the good in him.

When they’re motioned up to the altar, Jared reaches for her and Jensen lets him take the baby reluctantly. Matthew stands at his left, smirking when the father begins to speak.

Jensen ignores him.

It’s tradition.

Father Michael looks down at them as Jared holds the baby face out, her long white gown falling nearly to his knees. “And what name do you give this child?”

“Lucia.” Jared responds, smiling when his daughter yawns, tiny hand waving out from the froth of white silk she’s adorned in. Meredith has stitched her christening gown by hand.

“Lucia.” Father Michael signs her forehead and chest with the sign of the cross. “Receive the sign of the holy cross.”

“And now I ask you,“ The priest looks at them. “Before I administer to the sacrament of baptism, do you renounce the devil?”

“I do.” Jared replies solemnly.

Jensen looks right back. “I do renounce him.”

“And all his works?”

 This time, Jensen smiles wide. Somewhere in Attica, Carmine is taking his last breath. “I do renounce them.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers that the characters of this fic will never know: Jensen was the father of Chace's baby, Matt lied. J.D. Is dead, never made it to Montana. Jared doesn't know Jensen ordered a hit on his father.


End file.
